WaT Too Good To Be True
by Mariel3
Summary: What seems too good to be true often is...but on the other hand... JS
1. Default Chapter

Well, here's my next offering to the WaT gods. It's kind of a case file and kind of not, and is, of course, J/S, though you'll see M/S in spots. I'll try very hard to update regularly.

This chapter is dedicated to Justine, who wrote me out of the blue and said I should start posting. I guess she's right. Thanks as always to Diane, who is patient enough to survive my many revisions with grace and no complaint!

I own none of the characters but the ones of my own creation, and don't pretend to.

Too Good to be True  
By: Mariel

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**Chapter 1**

Standing in front of her kitchen sink, Georgina Blackwell smiled at the summer sounds wafting through her open window. Across the street, children had left their backyard swimming pool to dance and squeal in the cold spray of a lawn sprinkler set in the front of their house. In the sun-dappled trees lining the street, birds chirped half-heartedly, wearied by demanding young and August heat. Burdened with similar complaints, a few of their human counterparts pushed lawn mowers that droned a steady, summer lament. Farther away, she could hear the distant sound of an ice cream truck, its tinkling melody promising sweet relief from a week-long heat spell that showed no sign of letting up.

Taking pleasure in the small domestic chore, she finished the last dish and put it on the rack to dry, glancing at the clock as she took the plug out of the sink. When the phone began to ring, she looked at it, then glanced at the clock again. Quickly wiping her hands on a dish towel, she strode across the tiled kitchen floor.

"Hello?" she said, holding the white portable phone against her ear. She stiffened when she recognised the caller's voice, then hastily took a pen out of a drawer. Listening closely, she searched through a pile of papers strewn on the counter. Selecting an empty envelope on which to write, she jotted down a few words, then nodded. "I'll be right there."

TUESDAY, AUGUST 13  
20 HOURS MISSING

Special Supervisory Agent Jack Malone of the FBI's New York Missing Persons unit clipped an 8 by 10 photograph onto a large whiteboard.

The picture showed an attractive woman in her early thirties with dark curly hair and expressive brown eyes. There was a refinement in the delicate bone structure of her face that seemed to promise a soft voice and quiet demeanor. Full lipped and with a smile that revealed white, even teeth, she looked directly at the camera with candid eyes that hid nothing.

Or, as Jack had learned from long experience, hid more than anyone could possibly imagine.

Turning, he faced his team. His deep voice calm and matter-of-fact, he drew from memory an outline of the latest missing person assigned to his unit.

"Georgina Blackwell, aged thirty-four. Lives at 3472 Dearbourne with her two sons, Blake, aged six, and Denton, aged eight. She separated from her husband, Jason Blackwell, six months ago. She was reported missing by her sister, who spoke with her last two days ago, on the 11th at about 10:30 p.m. When her sister arrived at her home yesterday at 4:30 p.m., she was not there and had left no message explaining her absense. The sister contacted us this morning, when Georgina didn't come home during the night..."

When Jack finished, his team stirred.

Danny Taylor frowned. His dark brows furrowed over darker eyes, he leaned forward and put his elbows on the table in front of him. "Where are her kids?" he asked.

"According to the sister, they're with their father in New Jersey as part of their summer vacation."

Martin Fitzgerald, who sat on Danny's left, shrugged his lean shoulders and sat back more deeply into his chair. Swinging his chair slightly from side to side as he spoke, he suggested, "So maybe she's not missing. Maybe she just decided to take advantage of some time without kids and took off for a few days. If she's living at that address, she can certainly afford to."

No one questioned that last statement. Of anyone there, it was Martin who would know which addressses were the ones only considerable wealth could buy.

"It's something to consider, but the sister doesn't think it likely," Jack told him. "She and her sister are close, and she's certain she would have told her if she'd had something planned - and would have called to cancel if something had come up unexpectedly." He paused a moment, then added, "Her sister, by the way, is Victoria Newbury."

The name sent an electric shock of recognition around the table. Victoria Newbury. Everyone at the table knew the name. You couldn't live in New York and not. A member of New York society since her surprising marriage into the wealthy Newbury family about ten years earlier, Victoria had quickly made a name for herself by fundraising for various charities. Five hundred dollar-a-plate galas, fancy dress balls, concerts in the park...she planned them all, and everyone who was anyone made sure they attended. And they always - sometimes to their complete surprise - donated generously to whatever cause she was championing.

"Maybe Georgina's disappearance has something to do with her sister."

This comment came from Samantha Spade. The slender blond agent tapped her pen on the table top and added, "The Newburys are a very powerful family. Perhaps they have powerful enemies. With grudges to settle."

"That's an angle we'll look at if we have to," Jack agreed, "But first we're going to go through the house and talk to the neighbours. Samantha, you and I will do that." Turning his attention to the others gathered around the table, he said, "Danny, Martin, I want you to check with the husband." Turning to the remaining member of his team, he said, "Vivian, I want you to look at Georgina's telephone and bank records to see if there's anything of interest." Agent Johnson, who had worked with him longer than anyone else, could be trusted not to miss anything.

Acknowledging their assignments with nods, the team prepared to go their different ways.

-XXX-

"You sure she didn't just decide to take a few days off?" Samantha asked as she walked through Georgina Blackwell's livingroom.

The home was a suburban tribute to good taste and plenty of money. Looking around, she added, "This is quite a house. Did you get a look at the swimming pool out back? It's huge! If I had a place as nice as this, I wouldn't need to vacation - I'd be happy just to stay home."

"There's nothing wrong with your apartment," Jack responded absent-mindedly, "It's comfortable and has a view people would kill for." He looked around him, taking in the atmosphere of the room with a dissatisfied look on his face. "There's something that doesn't feel right about this place."

Looking at furnishings she'd have given her eye teeth to afford, Samantha didn't agree, but she held her tongue. Hearing him mention her apartment pleased her in a way it shouldn't have. Once, he had found her place a quiet refuge from busy days and tormented nights. And, with his arms wrapped comfortably around her waist, they had often stood and looked out her living room window at a city guilded with golden lights.

That, however, was years in the past. After their affair ended, she'd lived in a sad sort of limbo for a long time, never able to quite let go, incapable of truly moving on. Jack's announcement he was going to Chicago with his wife had been the wake-up call she'd needed. Finally realising there was no hope of a future with Jack, she had acted on impulse and invited Martin home. Though based on a less-than-optimum beginning, the relationship she and Martin had been forging ever since seemed to be working. They spent most of their off hours together, and she found him undemanding and easy to be with. Better still, he seemed to genuinely care for her. If there weren't the highs she had had with Jack, it was okay - there weren't the lows, either. There was something to be said, she'd decided, in playing it safe.

As for Jack, he seemed too busy adjusting to the idea of remaining in New York and living without his girls to think about relationships, past, present, or future. All things considered, she decided, it had all worked out for the better.

She started slightly as a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Did you check her bedroom for suitcases?" Jack asked.

Samantha turned to respond and saw that his back was turned to her. Looking more closely, she saw that he was examining a picture of a dark-haired, smiling woman with two small boys.

Moving to look at the photograph over his shoulder, she commented, "Nice looking family."

"All that's missing is a father," Jack said.

Samantha stiffened at the reminder of the reason for their affair ending, but did not move away.

Jack, unaware of the effect his words had had, was only conscious of her closeness. Inhaling just slightly deeper than necessary, he caught the delicate aroma of her perfume and then firmly pushed memories of her aside. "I wonder if she's seeing anyone," he said, refusing to give in to regrets he could do nothing about.

"I'll see what I find in the bedroom and let you know my guess," Samantha said. Turning, she walked towards the stairs that led up to the second floor.

End

Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Hi there! Thanks to everyone for the reviews and the welcome-backs! This chapter's short on Jack and Sam, but there's other stuff going on...As always, thanks for the words of encouragement from everyone - and thanks to Diane for reading this over...

The case continues...

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

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**Chapter 2**

Danny and Martin stood in the marble-floored entryway of one of the most expensive condo apartment buildings they'd had the honor to visit in months. The gentleman seated at the security desk had smiled at them as they'd entered, then nodded knowingly when they'd said who they were there to see.

"Mr. Blackwell informed me he was expecting company this afternoon. I'll inform him of your arrival," he told them in a formal tone.

Martin and Danny covered their surprise easily. There was no way they were expected, but 'never look a gift horse in the mouth' was their motto, and if Mr. Blackwell was expecting someone, there was no harm in their slipping upstairs under a mistaken assumption. Surprising Mr. Blackwell might elicit information a few moment's forewarning might suppress.

Reaching towards a console on his left, the security man pressed one of several dozen brass buttons. When a male voice responded, he said, "Your company has arrived, sir."

Blackwell acknowledged the message with a quick, 'Thank you'. The security man turned back towards the two agents. "You may go up. Mr. Blackwell is on the top floor, number 1016."

When they were in the elevator and the doors had closed, Danny wondered aloud, "I wonder who he's expecting?"

"Certainly not us, unless he's psychic," Martin responded. He paused, then suggested, "Maybe we should have told him who we are."

Danny shrugged. He figured the more money they had they less warning they deserved.

It took only minutes to arrive at Blackwell's door. The man who answered their knock was in his early forties and tall, darkly handsome, and casually dressed in well-fitting jeans and a white, open-necked shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled up. He was also clearly surprised to find the two agents at his door. "Can I help you?" he asked, his blue eyes piercing.

"We're from the FBI, Mr. Blackwell. I'm Special Agent Martin Fitzgerald, and this is Special Agent Danny Taylor," Martin said as he flashed his badge. "We're here to ask you a few questions about your wife."

"Georgina?"

Martin nodded. "Her sister has reported her missing. We're wondering if you have any idea where she might be."

Frowning, Jason made no move to allow them in. "I spoke to Georgina yesterday morning. Her sister phoned yesterday afternoon, asking if I'd heard from her. Is that what's this is about? She still hasn't come home? Are you sure she's not back?" He paused, then said, "I'm sorry. That was stupid. If she were home, you wouldn't be here, would you?" He looked at the two men and said in a reluctant tone, "I suppose you need to come in."

Martin resisted the urge to glance at his partner. He nodded. "Yeah, we do."

Stepping back, Jason asked, "I'm expecting someone shortly. How long do you think this will take?"

This time Martin did glance at Danny. Turning back to Blackwell, he assured him, "We'll make this as quick as possible."

Jason ushered them into a roomy, sunlit living room that boasted twelve-foot ceilings, large, floor-to-ceiling windows, and French doors that opened onto a large balcony. Flowers, potted palms, and a small waterfall gave a feeling of looking out onto a lush garden. It was hard to believe they were sixteen stories up. Blackwell was obviously doing well for himself.

"Nice place," Danny commented.

Jason shrugged. "I like it better than that little place Georgina insisted we stay in."

"That why you moved out?"

Jason smiled, "No, it was a bit more than that. Georgina was a woman who couldn't get used to the idea we didn't have to worry about money, though. It took me two years to get her to move into the place on Dearbourne." He shook his head. "If I hadn't used the argument about better schools for the boys, we'd still be living in a little two bedroom in Queens."

Danny idly wondered what a two bedroom apartment in Queens was going for, knowing he wouldn't have been able to afford it, let alone a four bedroom house on a street like Dearbourne.

"Maybe she just didn't like change," he commented, surprised that he was even having this conversation.

"She was a traditionalist," Jason said. "She was always worried that the boys be brought up with the right values, that they understood 'the meaning of a dollar' as she put it. She wanted to be a housewife, do stuff herself. I personally don't see the sense in that. If you can afford to hire someone to do something, hire them to do it."

Indicating a soft leather sofa with a wave of his hand, Jason invited the two agents to have a seat. He, however, remained standing.

"What can I do to help you?" he asked the two men, becoming all business.

Martin looked around. "Where are your sons, Mr. Blackwell?"

"I enrolled them in a day camp. They won't be home until dinner time." Obviously now in a hurrry to get to the point of their visit, he said, "You say Georgina is missing?"

Martin nodded. "We're wondering if you know where she is - or if you know of any reason she might have gone somewhere without letting anyone know. Did she have plans to go away while the two boys are with you?"

Jason shook his head. "No, not that I know of. Like I said, I spoke to her yesterday. She didn't mention anything about going somewhere." He paused. "You think something's happened to her?"

It was the first glimmer of concern they had seen.

"We don't know. Is there a place she might go to on the spur of the moment?" Martin asked. "A summer place, or a friend's?"

Jason shook his head. "No. I can't imagine where she'd have gone. Besides her sister, there's only her mother for family, and she hardly ever speaks to her. She's rather a homebody. Stays with the kids, you know?"

"You two have been separated for about six months?"

Jason nodded.

"Is the separation permanent or a trial of some sort?"

Jason's expression shuttered closed. "That's personal."

"Yes, but if you're preparing to divorce, she could be dating someone and if that's the case, we need to speak to him, right?" Martin asked in a reasonable tone.

It was obvious Jason saw the logic, but he still didn't respond.

Not understanding the husband's reluctance, Matin said, "Mr. Blackwell, we need everyone's cooperation if we're going to find your wife."

Jason opened his mouth reluctantly. "I think it's unlikely we'll get back together."

The two agents waited for him to elaborate, but he did not.

"Are you sure there's nothing you can tell us? Did your wife have any enemies, anyone who might wish her harm?"

Again, Blackwell silently regarded the two men before responding. Looking away, he finally said, "I think Victoria may have jumped the gun when she called you. Sometimes Georgina goes off for a while."

"And when she 'goes off for a while', where does she go, how long is she gone, and why is her sister so sure she's missing?"

Jason made a frustrated movement with his hands. "Sometimes my wife was out longer than she expected. And she didn't always tell me where she'd been or what she'd been doing when she got back. The longer times, when she didn't come home for the night, I usually knew she'd be gone because she had to get someone to come in for the kids. I just never believed her when she said where she was going. That we're separated should tell you something! If you need to know anything, ask her sister. She's a hell of a lot more likely to know than I."

Recognising he had reached a dead end with that line of questioning, Martin asked, "Do you know if your wife is dating anyone?"

Jason's face relaxed as he took a moment to think. "There's a chance, I suppose, but I don't know, to be honest. The boys haven't said anything, and I'm sure they would. They have enough to say when-" He stopped abruptly, then continued wryly, "Separation is the easy part," he explained. "Getting the kids used to the idea that their mother and father aren't together anymore and might actually want to see someone else..." He shook his head. "That's almost impossible."

The silence that followed his words obviously made him uncomfortable. Moving restlessly, Blackwell finally told them, "Look, talk to her sister. Victoria and Georgina see each other almost every day. Victoria would know a lot more about her day-to-day routine than I would. She always has."

The last three words were said with unmistakeable bitterness. Martin knew there was an interesting story behind that tone, but knew instinctively Jason would refuse to answer any questions in that direction. So instead, he said, "Someone will be speaking to Victoria Newbury again later today. She gave us what information she could when she filed the missing persons report."

Jason smiled. "Of course she did. I'm just surprised she waited until this morning to contact you." Looking at his watch, he looked towards the door. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready. As I said, I'm expecting someone. If you have any further questions, you can reach me at my office - or here, of course."

They were walking across the building's foyer towards the exit before Danny said what was on his mind.

"That man is the most accomplished liar I've met in a long time."

Martin looked at him in surprise. "What are you talking about? He's not telling us everything he could - the look of relief when I stopped asking about his wife 'going off' proved that - but I don't know that he's actually lying about anything."

"He's been talking to the sister already today," Danny said, his voice sure. "He knew when we arrived that Georgina was missing."

"What?"

Danny nodded. Walking out into the day's bright sunshine, he reached for his sunglasses. "He said he was surprised that Victoria had waited until this morning to file the report. How would he know when she filed the report unless he's been talking to her since the phone call yesterday he told us about? I wonder why they both felt it necessary to act as though they hadn't spoken."

Martin looked thoughtful. Mentally kicking himself for not picking up on that himself, he said, "Damn it. I should have-"

Danny cut in. "Forget it. You were concentrating on other things. We'd better let Jack know this isn't the first time she's gone AWOL." Reaching their car, he opened the door and sat behind the steering wheel. Flipping open his cell phone, he waited for Martin to assume his position in the passenger seat. When he had, Danny said, "Jack and Samantha planned to see Victoria right after going through Georgina's house and talking to the neighbours. If Mr. Blackwell wants us to ask the sister why Georgina has disappeared before, that's exactly what we'll do."

Martin looked at his partner with a glint in his eye. "And something tells me we'll be sitting right here until we find out who Blackwell is expecting, right?"

Danny grinned.

End Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

**Happy Monday! **

Thanks to everyone who's been kind enough to read and review this story. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint...

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Samantha got down on her hands and knees to look under Georgina's bed. There was nothing there - no missing sock, no partially read book, not even a dust bunny. Remaining on her knees, she straightened up and leaned against the bed, her hands clasped loosely on top of the richly textured duvet cover. She looked around the room thoughtfully.

Movement in the doorway made her turn her head.

"Saying your prayers?" Jack asked lightly as he entered the master bedroom.

She shook her head. Feeling silly, she rose and brushed imaginary dust from her pant leg. "I can't believe how clean she keeps this place. There's nothing out of place, no garbage, no nothing to indicate anything about what goes on in her day-to-day life." She glanced around the room, explaining, "Most bedrooms have a garbage can filled with receipts, Kleenexes, dry cleaning cellophane, that sort of thing. Hers has nothing." Gesturing towards the offending receptable, she said, "It looks as though she's never used it. The garbage can in the bathroom is the same."

"Anything in the bedside table?" Jack asked. With a sudden pang, he remembered the clutter of items hidden in the drawer of hers.

She shook her head. "It's almost empty. Just a paperback novel, a few pens and pencils, and some blank paper. No diary, no date book, no anything. I can't even find an address book."

Jack frowned. He'd found nothing downstairs, either. Everything was spotlessly clean. The small den off the entryway held a computer, an empty garbage can, and a filing cabinet that held a suspicious number of empty hanging files. Now, faced with this last piece of evidence supporting the theory he'd begun to build downstairs, he told her, "Someone's been through here and cleared things out since she left."

Looking around the blue-walled room with its tasteful artwork and perfectly placed lamps, candles, and other decorative pieces, she considered the pristine kitchen, the spotless bathrooms, and the total lack of clutter where one would expect to find it. "It's a definite possibility," she agreed, "There isn't even any mail lying around. It's positively eerie, when you think of it." She looked towards the large walk-in closet. "But her suitcases are in there."

Both agents paused, wondering who had done the clean up, what they had taken, and why.

Making his decision, Jack told her, "Call our CSIs. I want someone to go through this place top to bottom. I knew this place didn't feel right."

While she took care of that, he did his own examination of the bedroom. Something was very, very wrong.

When Samantha hung up the phone and walked towards him, he said, "Let's take a quick survey of the neighbours. Someone may have seen something."

-XXX-

After quickly talking to two neighbours who knew nothing, they spoke to a Kelly McKinnon, who lived across the street. Georgina had had coffee with her the morning of her disappearance, narrowing the time of Georgina's disappearance to between ten a.m. on the 11th, when she'd left Kelly's home, and four o'clock that afternoon, when Victoria had arrived to find her not there. Kelly also informed them that she had seen Georgina's sister's car in the driveway until late that night.

"Was her sister's car there the entire evening?" Samantha asked.

Kelly shook her head regretfully. "I don't know. My oldest had a soccer game. It was the nanny's day off," she explained, "so I took him to it, and then took him and a couple friends out afterwards for ice cream. I was out from about six until after nine o'clock. I don't know when she left, but her car was still there when my husband and I went to bed around 10:30. It was gone when I got up this morning, though."

The two agents asked questions about Georgina's state of mind, her marriage, and the chances that she might have decided to go somewhere. "She never mentioned an affair, or anything like that," Kelly told them. She and Jason, she assured them, were "trying to be mature about things", and the cause of the marriage breakup was something Georgina had never discussed. She was a very private person, Kelly told them. She didn't have a nanny . And, she added, only had a cleaner in once a week. This last bit of information was added as though to prove just how much Georgina treasured her privacy. Still, she insisted, Georgina would have certainly said something about going away if that had been her plan.

After a few more minutes of questions about the children and Georgina's interests and activities, Jack rose. "Thanks for your help."

"I hope you find her. I can't imagine where she could have gone or why she hasn't contacted anyone. It's really not like her," Kelly said, her round, freckled face showing her worry. "She'd be sure to let her boys know where she was."

"If you think of anything else, please call," Samantha told her, holding out a card. "Our number is on this."

Nodding her thanks, Kelly took the card and then showed them out. Both agents were aware of her watching them as they walked down the long drive to their car.

Getting into the car, Samantha waited for Jack to start the engine and drive away before saying, "She's been living the perfect life - two great kids, a lovely home, a marriage that failed, but which didn't go down the tubes with the bad feelings most do. I don't get it. She can't have disappeared on her own. Something's happened to her."

"Either she left on her own to go somewhere, expecting to be back in time to meet her sister and something happened to her before she could return, or someone came to the house and she went with them," Jack guessed. "The house may have been cleaned up to destroy any evidence of that."

"None of the neighbours mentioned seeing her leave."

"Which means that at the moment, one scenario is as likely as the other. I think we need to find out more about the marriage and more about what Georgina did with her spare time. We're not getting a good picture of who she is, and until we do, our chances of finding her are close to zero."

"Danny and Martin will get something from the husband," Samantha said confidently.."If anyone knows her, it'll be him."

Jack kept his face expressionless and said nothing. If there was one thing life had taught him, it was that marriage to someone was no guarantee of knowing them.

Samantha looked at her watch just as Jack's phone rang. Jack flipped it off his belt and passed it to her. "Take it. I have to figure out how to get out of here," he told her, leaning over the steering wheel and peering up at a street sign.

"Must be Danny and Martin," she said. Flipping it open, she said her name and then listened intently.

When she closed the phone, she filled Jack in immediately. "That was Danny. The husband says this isn't the first time Georgina has disappeared, but wouldn't say when or why. Insists we should talk to the sister if we want to know more."

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Fine. We'll go see her now. Odd she didn't mention this wasn't the first time Georgina has dropped out of sight. Since we don't have a record of it, it must mean they didn't report it." He paused to think, then said, "It may just be a red herring. It'll be interesting to see what spin Mrs. Newbury puts on things." He looked at her. "Are they on the way back to the office?"

Keeping up with the change in topic, Samantha shook her head. "No. Mr. Blackwell was expecting someone, so they're waiting around to see who shows up. Danny says that he was in an awful hurry to get them out of there before his guest arrived."

Jack shrugged. "Could be anybody. A girlfriend he doesn't want the kids to know about, maybe."

"Well, Danny and Martin will be able to tell us soon enough."

Passing the phone back to Jack, Samantha settled back to enjoy the cool temperatures of the air-conditioned car, her thoughts mulling over their upcoming meeting with Mrs. Newbury.

"Do you think Mrs. Newbury will be able to add anything to what she told us when she reported Georgina missing?"

Jack shrugged again. " To be honest, I think there's a lot more she could tell us. There always is. Whether or not she'll be willing to tell us is another matter."

Samantha looked about to speak, then thought better of it. Nodding, she looked out of the window, content to wait and see.

End  
Chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

Hey! It's Thursday already! Itofosho...thanks for the reminder I should be posting another bit! Thanks to everyone for the reviews - I'm not sure, exactly where this story is going to end up, but I'm glad people are still interested so far!

Just as a point of interest...this chapter holds a bit of a surprise...

Diane: thanks for the beta . You know how much I appreciate your eagle eye!

Disclaimer: as everyone should know by now, I own only the characters I've created, not the ones we love from the show...those I've just borrowed to play around with. I always return them unharmed...

Relatively speaking...

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

**

* * *

Chapter 4**

Victoria Newbury, as it turned out, was unavailable for immediate questioning. "Good thing we called in advance," Samantha commented as they rode the elevator up to their office floor.

Jack nodded. Mrs. Newbury had left a message for them with her personal assistant filled with apologies for her being unavoidably called away and providing an emergency number if they "absolutely had to speak with her". Given the number of charities the woman was involved with and an upcoming black tie concert to benefit one of them, it made sense that she had a busy schedule. "At least she left a message," he said. "It's probably not a bad thing. I'm counting on Danny and Martin returning soon. That'll give us a chance to sit down and compare notes. Vivian may have some new information, too."

Samantha smiled. Jack was far from disgruntled by the postponement of Victoria's second interview. He liked knowing as much as possible before he interviewed someone he thought might not be telling him everything, and though he'd said nothing, she knew he had left the first interview with Victoria far from satisfied. This gave him an excellent opportunity to discover information that might give him an edge during his questioning.

The elevator door opened and they stepped out. After walking a few steps, Jack halted. "Samantha, you go ahead and let Vivian know I'm ready to hear what she's got. I'll go update Olczyk," he said, referring to the AD who had replaced Paula Van Doren. "By the time I finish with him, Danny and Martin may be back, or will at least have called to let us know who the husband was expecting."

Samantha nodded and headed towards Vivian's desk.

Fifteen minutes later, Jack emerged from the AD's office. Walking into the bullpen, he looked around and asked, "Any word from Danny and Martin?"

Vivian and Samantha both shook their heads.

"Then let's meet in my office," he suggested.

Once all three were comfortably seated, Vivian began to fill him in on Rebecca's credit card and bank activity.

"Her husband provides her with a generous living allowance, and for the first three months after their separation, she paid her bills promptly. Then she stopped and hasn't paid any of her regular bills since then. The money, however, is still being taken out - in lump sums. Usually five or six hundred dollars at a time. Always in cash."

"So she's spending it."

"But how? On what?" Vivian asked. "I can see going through a month's worth of cash pretty quick if you had something expensive come up you had to pay for - you'd set your regular bills aside and try to catch up the next month - but it seems out of character for her to go more than two months without making a single payment on anything."

Jack nodded. "So we need to find out what the money got used for."

"Drugs, maybe," said Samantha.

"Or blackmail?" Vivian suggested. "Even without her sister in the equation, she and her husband ran in fairly powerful circles. Perhaps someone found out something she doesn't want known."

"I think we need-" Jack's sentence was cut off by his phone ringing. Frowning, he picked it up. "Malone," he said, expecting to hear either Martin or Danny's voice respond.

He was mistaken. The voice at the other end spoke quickly and was difficult to understand. Jack caught the part about it being someone on front desk security, but after that he was damned if he could make out anything else.

"Slow down. I can't understand you," he said, frowning. "What?"

Jack pressed the phone tight against his ear. An exasperated male voice again launched into a diatribe he could still only partially understand. The problem seemed to involve someone without clearance trying to get up to the twelfth floor to see him. Jack could hear a steady stream of words in the background, which made it even more difficult to hear what was being said. The voice was feminine, and sounded angry.

"No, I'm not expecting anyone. Who did-" Jack stopped abruptly when the feminine voice in the background got suddenly clearer.

"Jack, is that you?"

Jack frowned, trying to recall the voice. "Yes," he said abruptly. "Who's this?"

"God! At last! Jack, it's me, Janice!" the woman exclaimed. Her very English accent clipping each word, she continued, "I don't know what's wrong with this fellow! Tell him I am unarmed and totally harmless! Tell him I failed chemistry class, do not intend to blow anyone up, and am frightened of guns. My God, all I wanted to do was sneak up and surprise you!"

Jack's heart stopped as memories came flooding back. "Janice?"

He could almost hear her triumphant smile. "Yes! I told you I'd look you up next time I was on this side of the pond! And here I am, love, and I've been trying desperately for two whole days to get hold of you!"

She made it sound like a year.

"Have you moved?" she continued without taking a breath. "I've dropped by the address I have for you, but you're never there. I've been ringing you, too. Did you know there's no machine picking up? I think you should take a look to see if it's working properly; heaven knows how many calls you've missed. And now that I've finally had the chance to pop 'round here, this wretched man insists I'm a security threat and won't let me up to see you."

While she took a moment to inhale, Jack spoke. "No, I haven't moved, and that 'wretched man' you mentioned is only doing his job," he said. As far as he knew the answering machine worked just fine, too - Maria had taken it to Chicago months ago. He wasn't about to get into that now, however. "Last I heard, you'd decided to stop travelling and settle down. What are you doing here?" he asked.

_What are you doing here?_

Memories danced through his mind. As a kid, his family had been stationed in Germany, and he'd not been happy. Preferring his own company to those of the other army brats who ran the streets in his complex, he had thought himself lucky to find an old abandoned shed behind a nearby house. No one seemed to use it, and he had done his best to fix it up into a secret place just for himself.

One day he'd opened the door to find someone comfortably seated on the floor under a window, reading one of his comic books.

_"What are you doing here?" he asked._

_"Reading," the young girl replied, lifting the comic to show him._

_"Those are mine."_

_"I figured as much," she said, her manner unconcerned and her accent unmistakably English. Looking at him with eyes that sparkled, she explained, "You're the only one who ever comes here, so they'd have to be."_

_He frowned. "Who are you? How did you know I come here?"_

_"I'm Janice, and I've seen you around," she said. "I couldn't figure out what you did with all your time, though, so I followed you." She looked around. "I like it here. It's quiet." Her eyes slid away from his, and for the first time since he'd opened the door, he thought he detected uncertainty. "You don't mind, do you? I promise not to tell."_

That glimpse of uncertainty had touched something in him and won him over.

The friendship they developed was as strong as it was unlikely. She was the only child of a widowed British liaison to the American Army - a man too busy to notice she was rarely where she should be. He was a young, angry army brat who didn't want to be at home with a mother too depressed to cope with living in a country where she was surrounded by people speaking a language she didn't understand. Not wanting to explain why he couldn't invite new friends to his home, he had held himself aloof from his counterparts since his arrival.

Over the next three years, he and Janice became each other's family, looking out for each other, keeping each other company, and telling each other their secrets. When he was fifteen, Jack's father was transferred back to the States, but the friendship continued in brief phone calls and letters sent across the Atlantic to wherever either of them happened to be.

When his mother committed suicide a year after their return to the U.S., it had been Janice he called. Only she knew some of the pain and uncertainty he endured in the aftermath of her death. He had poured his heart out to her, feeling safe in confiding in someone far away and unseen, but close enough to understand.

Years later, when he was in the army, they had met while he was on leave during a tour overseas. She had been working on a story and waiting, at the age of 21, for her first divorce to be finalized. Their meeting had held none of the awkwardness of people long separated. Janice had announced their friendship made in heaven. He only knew that of all the people in his life, she was the most constant.

After their time together overseas, when he returned stateside with a bummed out knee and a depression that frightened him, she had again been the one he phoned. She had provided him with another perspective, an optimism and an exuberance for life that he needed and trusted.

Thinking back, he realised it had been over a year since he'd heard from her - the longest time ever. He'd half been expecting another wedding invitation to arrive soon. The frequency of those invitations (if he remembered correctly, she was presently on her fourth marriage) had led him to once jokingly suggest she didn't need to use marriage as an excuse to write to him.

And now she was actually here in the city. Downstairs. And doing what she often did: proving him mistaken.

"You thought I was in England? I guess that is what I told you last, isn't it? My wonderful publishers had other ideas, I'm afraid, and decided it's high time I did something on this side of the Atlantic. I told them yes, providing I could be in New York! There'd be little point in coming all this way and not seeing you!" she said. He frowned a little, and wished he could see her face, because he was sure there was something in her airy tone that was amiss.

Then he heard a male voice in the background. It sounded angry. Jolted back to reality, he asked, "Janice, you had better give the phone back." He was pretty certain from sounds in the background that she was busy fending off security's attempts to recapture it. He closed his eyes. Some things never changed.

"Janice-"

"Jack," she cut in. "Please. Tell him to let me come up. It's not as though-"

Jack opened his eyes and stopped her from finishing. Speaking in a voice meant to be obeyed, he said slowly, "Janice. Give him back his phone. I will tell him to let you onto the elevators. Get off on the 12th floor. I'll be there to meet you. You can explain what you're doing here then." His voice gentled. "It'll be good to see you."

"It'll be good to see you, too, love," she said, pleased she was finally getting somewhere.

He heard a rustle, a muffled remark, and then: "Sorry, sir. She wouldn't take no for an answer."

Jack smiled in spite of himself. "She rarely does. Is this Thompson?" he asked, wanting to know which security person to apologise to in person.

"Yes, sir," Thompson replied. He launched into an explanation of what had happened and why. By the time he was finished, he sounded much calmer.

Jack nodded when he was finished. "There wasn't anything else you could have done. Could you please let-" He paused, totally unable to recall what Janice's latest last name was. Unsure she would be travelling under it anyway, he began again, asking, "Could you please show her the way to the the elevator?"

"Should I send someone with her, Agent Malone?" Thompson asked, now all business.

"No, in spite of first appearances, she's harmless," Jack told him in a dry tone. "I'll take care of her on this end."

He thought he heard a muttered 'good luck', but the connection was too quickly broken for him to ask.

Hanging up the phone, he stared at it a moment before Vivian cleared her throat.

"Jack?"

He started, then collected himself . "Sorry. That was an old friend of mine. Met her when I was a kid and my family was posted in Germany. She's in town. Haven't seen her in ages..." His voice drifted off. Security must be good, he thought, if she hadn't managed to slip past them in her quest to surprise him. Just like her to brazen her way in anyways. With a rueful smile, he added, "She asked to be allowed up to surprise me. When they insisted they needed to call first to get approval, she pretended to leave and then tried to sneak up." He looked at the phone, still smiling. "She hasn't changed."

That thought seemed to prod him into action. "I'd better get to the elevator," he said. Rising, he quickly made his way out of his office.

Vivian and Samantha stared at one another. "I think we should maybe add ourselves to the welcoming party," Vivian suggested, intrigued with the idea of meeting someone from Jack's past. She'd known him the longest and knew next to nothing about his personal life. The person on the other end of that conversation sounded interesting. No point, she thought, in passing up the opportunity.

Samantha was interested for different reasons. She'd seen the look of surprise on Jack's face and then seen it melt into a look of pleasure. She wasn't sure how she felt about that, but knowing it was a woman who had caused that look motivated her to rise and follow Vivian out the door.

When the elevator door finally opened, a petite, dark-haired woman stepped out. Dressed in white pants, white tank top, and a perfectly tailored beige linen jacket, she stood for a moment, grasping a small leather shoulder bag that matched her heeled beige sandals. A large brooch gave her outfit a bright dash of colour. Looking elegantly casual and confident, she gazed around. As soon as she spotted Jack, she smiled broadly and strode towards him.

They greeted one another with a huge hug. A huge, long hug. Taking what Samantha felt was far longer than necessary, the two finally parted. Stepping back, the woman spoke. Again, Samantha was surprised. She had expected a German accent, since that's where Jack had said he'd met her. Her accent, however, was definitely upper-class English, her voice soft and pleasant. "I can't believe I'm finally here! That fellow was bloody impossible! He simply wouldn't listen!"

"Oh, he was listening," Jack said, his face breaking out into an unaccustomed full grin. "You were just upset he wasn't letting you have your own way,"

She ran slender fingers through short, dark hair that was sprinkled with grey at her temples. "Well," she admitted, her eyes twinkling, "that may have been part of it! But I wanted to surprise you, and he insisted on speaking to you first! That would rather have spoiled the surprise, now, wouldn't it?"

"So you tried to sneak up, got caught, and then grabbed the phone out of his hand when he called me?"

"What else could I do? The least he could have done was let me speak with you myself first! He was treating me like a bloody criminal," she insisted.

Jack grinned again. "Which is not something you're unaccustomed to," he reminded her.

She opened her mouth to speak then closed it. It was a comment she couldn't argue. Smiling, she grasped his forearms and shook her head. "God, you look bloody awful," she said, before wrapping her arms around him again.

Jack returned her hug, chuckling. Thinking she looked wonderful, he told her, "And you're a sight for sore eyes, too, Jan. Now tell me: what the hell are you doing here?"

The woman held him tightly. Not answering his question she said, "It's good to see you again."

Samantha and Vivian watched in surprise as Jack placed a gentle kiss on the top of the shorter woman's head before slowly releasing her. Looking down at her affectionately, he said, "Same here." He'd noticed her evasion, but knew better than to press too hard.

She smiled up at him, her eyes shadowed. Seeing the question in his eyes, she shook her head. "It's a very long story, love, and I promise to tell you the whole thing. When there's time." She turned a quick, violet-eyed glance towards the two women who stood to the side watching. "But something tells me you don't have that at the moment."

Ever observant, Janice had noticed Samantha and Vivian draw to a halt when she'd exited the elevator. Since they'd not got on the elevator and had stood by watching her and Jack with interested expressions, she expected that they were with him. She looked at Jack and took a step backward. "You were working and I've interrupted. I'm sorry."

Jack, seeing her glance in his co-workers' direction, lifted a hand in their direction. "Janice, I'd like you to meet Samantha Spade and Vivian Johnson. They work with me. Samantha, Vivian, this is an old friend of mine, Janice..." again, his voice trailed off. He still had no idea what her last name was this time.

Janice smiled and stepped towards the two women. Holding out her hand, she said, "Hello there." Tilting his head in Jack's direction, she said, "He has no idea who to introduce me as! I suppose it would be easier if I kept my maiden name, but I never do, which inevitably means people have to suffer through these pauses until I introduce myself! Today, I'm Janice Spencer. And I'm not half so old as he'd like to make me out to be," she said, her eyes sparkling. After they shook hands and murmured the usual greetings, Janice told them, "I'm very sorry to be a bother. You're probably working on a case. I was simply so determined to see him I didn't stop to think." She looked at Jack, her face showing her concern. "Do you have a few minutes or should I come back?" she asked him. "I want to catch you up on where I'm staying and we can make arrangements to meet properly. I intend to monopolize every free moment you have while I'm here."

Vivian appeared amused. Samantha wasn't sure what she felt. There was an open friendliness about the woman that made her likeable, but the piercing gaze Janice had directed at her as they'd shaken hands had made Samantha feel thoroughly examined and evaluated. She wondered fleetingly if Jack had told her about his affair and who he had had it with. She found the thought discomfiting. Then another thought occurred to her: if Janice planned to monopolise all Jack's free time, it was obvious she already knew about Maria's departure.

Jack stepped forward. "I can spare a few minutes," he said, knowing that was all he had. "We're waiting for the rest of the team to return."

Janice turned to him with a smile. "Then my timing wasn't totally awful!"

Jack found himself smiling in return. He'd been trying not to feel anything for a long time and had been working hard at keeping himself aloof from others. Now, thrown off balance by Janice's surprise entrance, he felt himself relax.

It felt good to smile openly into eyes that smiled back.

Suddenly aware there were two other pairs of interested eyes watching him, he decided to change venue. In a gruff voice he asked Janice, "Are we going to stand here for the rest of the afternoon, or can I show you to my office?"

She nodded. "Lead on, McDuff!"

He pressed his hand against the small of her back and moved her gently towards his office. As she was guided past Samantha and Vivian, she looked at them and smiled. "Thank you. He'll be all yours in just a tic." Continuing to look at them as she passed, she added with a grin, "He doesn't know it yet, but we're going to have so much fun while I'm here!"

Samantha watched, speechless, as they entered Jack's office. As she and Vivian walked past on their way back to their desks, she saw Jack and Janice walk towards the sofa. When they settled down on the edge of it, angled towards each other, Janice placed a familiar hand on his knee while they talked.

Samantha wasn't the only one who noticed that. Giving an amused snort, Vivian observed, "Looks like there's quite a history there. I wonder if it's hearing about his divorce that's brought her here." She turned to Samantha. "How many years did he say since he's seen her?"

Samantha shrugged. "I'm not sure. She's wearing a wedding ring, though, so maybe it's just a visit to say hello."

Vivian's looked over at the two seated figures and thought there was much more behind Janice's visit than a desire to say hello. She guessed it would be very interesting to see what that 'much more' was. Looking at Samantha she grinned to herself. It would be interesting, she decided, in more ways than one.

End

Chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry for the delay! Monday was a holiday, and I forgot yesterday was Thursday! Thanks to Justine for writing to remind me of my posting duties! g> Thanks as always to the people who are reviewing this and appreciation to beta extraordinaire Diane!

**Too Good to be True**  
By: Mariel

**

* * *

Chapter 5**

Armed with Jack's cell number, a key to his apartment, and cautionary words as to how little time he'd have to see her in the immediate future, Janice headed for the elevator. She could feel Jack's eyes on her back as she left and felt a rush of happiness at seeing him again. The happiness, however, was heavily tinged with concern. Though she had no doubt that he was glad to see her, there was a sadness about him that belied his assurances that all was well. Mentally deciding to tell her editors it was going to take her longer to get her story than she'd originally anticipated, she strode through the open elevator door and pushed the button for the main lobby. She'd had her own reasons for running away to New York, her own reasons for running towards Jack ...but seeing him like this changed everything.

As the door to Janice's elevator door closed, another opened. Danny and Martin stepped out and headed directly to the bullpen.

As they entered their common work area, Samantha turned and smiled at the two returning men. "You look pleased with yourselves."

"You'll never guess who our friend was waiting for," Danny responded as he slumped into his chair at the conference table. His eyes shone, and the air of triumph about him was unmistakable.

Vivian swivelled her chair around to look at him. "You're probably right," she said, her voice filled with amusement. Raising one eyebrow, she asked, "But perhaps we should let Jack in on your news, too?"

Martin, who had been about to sit down, paused and said, "I'll go make sure he knows we're back."

Since he and Samantha had begun a relationship, Martin had felt uneasy in the older man's presence. He did his best to offset that feeling by doing small things like this. It gave him contact, so that things appeared to be normal, but left him in no danger of prolonged interaction. It seemed to be an arrangement that worked well for both of them. Jack, he had noticed, rarely made any move to ever speak with him privately, either - at least not since the 'I know' conversation, when Jack had told him he knew about their relationship.

Rapping his knuckles on the open door, he told his boss, "We're back. It was worth waiting around for."

Jack looked up from the papers he was examining. A wry smile accompanying his words, he said, "And since you aren't spilling the beans, I assume Danny has threatened you with bodily harm if you do?" He looked at the paper he was holding, then back up at Martin, his face turned serious. "I have to finish this. I'll only be a minute." That said, he turned back to his reading.

Feeling dismissed, and wondering idly what Jack had been reading, Martin went back to join the others.

Jack arrived only moments later.

Looking at Danny, he took his seat at the head of the table and said, "So, I understand sitting around in the car this afternoon was worth the effort."

Danny grinned. "I think so. The person Mr. Blackwell was waiting for was none other than Stefano Rossi."

Jack frowned at the familiar name. "Rossi's running extortion here for the Mafia, isn't he?"

"That's what they say," Danny agreed. "Interesting that he's suddenly interested in Blackwell. He was there less than thirty minutes. When he left, we followed him, but he just went to his apartment over in Queens. If we're gonna tail him, we'll need more people."

"We'll wait on that until we've spoken with Victoria Newbury." Jack told him. Looking over at Vivian, he said, "When we're finished here, give a call to Organized Crime and see what they can tell us about a connection between Rossi and the Blackwells. I can't see how his visit is simply coincidental to Georgina's disappearance."

"Could it be a kidnapping?" Martin asked.

Jack shrugged dismissively. "If it were, why? It wouldn't fit Rossi's style, so my guess is, no. I'm willing to bet he knows something we want to know, though."

A flash of insight made him also willing to bet he was going to get some sort of reaction from Virginia Newbury when Rossi's name was mentioned. Stifling a sense of satisfaction that he'd had to wait to talk to her, he asked Martin and Danny to fill him in on the impressions they'd gained from speaking to the husband.

He remained silent for a moment when the two men were finished their report, then provided an oral summation:

"Okay. So this is what we've got. As far as we know, Georgina has been missing for about twenty-six hours. The sister seemed frantic with worry when she reported Georgina missing, but I strongly suspect that before doing so, she very cooly and efficiently cleared out all traces of Georgina's personal life from the house. The husband was phoned about her disappearance but claims he's not worried because she's 'dropped out of sight' as he puts it, before. When questioned further, however, he clams up and puts the onus on the sister to provide information. The husband has also made some interesting 'friends', if Rossi's presence is anything to go by." He paused and looked down at his notes. Tapping his pen on the table twice, he looked up. "They all know something they're not telling us. We need to find out what that something is."

Information in a report he'd been handed earlier made his heart heavy. Georgina Blackwell had hung with some pretty seedy characters before straightening out her life and marrying Blackwell. Victoria had, too. In some ways New York was a small town, so it may have been that Rossi had been a part of that life too, and had become part of it again. If that were so, it didn't appear the reappearance had brought them any good.

Turning to Samantha, he said, "It's almost time for us to speak with her. Maybe we'll learn a little more this time." Putting his pen in his inside breast pocket, he told Danny: "I need you to hang around Jeff Blackwell's place. Keep an eye on where he goes and who he sees." On impulse, he told Vivian, "After you talk to Organized Crime, find out what Georgina did in her spare time. She had plenty of it, and from the look of her filing cabinet she likely kept records of some sort. We need to find out what those records were about." Turning to the last person to be assigned a task, he said, "Martin, go over Georgina's phone records again, and compare them with her husband's. See who they speak to regularly. See who they've got in common. Go back at least six months."

Martin nodded, disappointed at being kept in the office. Ignoring a good-natured punch to his arm as Danny rose and left, he turned his thoughts to endless rows of numbers. A smile from Samantha as she passed, however, brightened his mood. He'd see her tonight, if they managed to leave work. Pleased with the thought, he rose and walked towards his desk a happier man.

-XXX-

Victoria Newbury stood as they entered her office. Dressed in a pale pink silk suit, and with every strawberry blonde hair perfectly in place, she looked cooly calm and confident. Closer examination, however, revealed carefully covered shadows beneath her eyes and a tenseness in her movements that belied the relaxed front she was trying to maintain. She smiled briefly in greeting, then waved a manicured hand towards leather-bound chairs placed in front of her massive mahogany desk. "Please, have a seat. My assistant told me you phoned. I'm sorry I was unavailable. We've been having a few difficulties in preparing for an upcoming event, and I had to deal with them."

"We need to ask you a few more questions," Jack said.

She frowned as she sat down. "I think I've told you everything I can."

Jack ignored her comment and proceeded to show her he didn't believe her. Abruptly, he said, "We've been to your sister's house. The neighbours report that your car was in the driveway for hours the evening she disappeared. The place has obviously been cleared out - there's no garbage, no mail, and there are files missing from her office. There are also no address books or any other items of personal significance. Any particular reason you decided to play housemaid before phoning in her disappearance?"

Jack saw Victoria's eye flicker, but it was the only outward sign he got that his question disturbed her.

Her mask firmly in place, Victoria squared her shoulders and raised one curved eyebrow. "Agent Malone, I don't play housemaid. I have neither the time nor the inclination," she said in a haughty tone. "I was at my sister's home for hours that night waiting for her, but I did not clean it. She's quite capable of hiring people for that. Remember, her boys were away. She may have taken the opportunity to clean out her filing cabinet and throw a few things away. What you saw is the result of that. Besides: how could the garbage being taken out affect your investigation?"

Jack kept his voice patient. "Mrs. Newbury, more than the garbage was removed. As I said, we found no address book, no recent mail - opened or otherwise - and her filing cabinet has a number of empty hanging files that were once filled. You spent the evening going through her things before calling us. I need to know why."

Victoria moved uncomfortably. "I don't know what you're talking about," she insisted.

"Then perhaps you can tell us about the relationship between Stefano Rossi and your sister."

Victoria's dark eyes widened. "I'm sorry, who?"

"Stefano Rossi."

Avoiding his eyes, she looked down at her desk. Shaking her head slowly, she said, "No, I'm sorry. I don't believe I've ever heard that name."

Jack was having none of it. "Perhaps you need more time to think. I believe he's become a regular at some of your more exclusive charity functions," he prodded. Stefano Rossi, he knew, had been trying for years to buy his way into legitimacy. Contributing generously to local charitable events had been one means of doing so.

Victoria began to lose some of her calm facade. Plucking at papers set in front of her, she looked across at him. "I don't know what to say. Rossi is a common Italian name in New York, Agent Malone. It's possible there's a Stefano among them, but that he would have anything to do with my sister is very unlikely."

"Do you know where your sister is, Mrs. Newbury?"

Her brows drew together in a frown. "I'm the one who reported her missing. Would I have gone to the trouble of calling you people in if I'd known where she was?"

Jack sat back and regarded her with dark eyes. "I don't know. Would you have?"

End  
Chapter 5

Too Good To Be True


	6. Chapter 6

FINALLY lets me log in! Sorry this is so late. More of the investigation into the case...thanks for the ongoing reviews, they make my day!

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Jack's cell phone rang shortly after he and Samantha left Victoria Newbury's office. Stepping out into the heat and humidity of late afternoon, he flipped the ringing instrument open and said his name. After walking down several steps to the sidewalk, he drew to a halt and listened silently. Samantha stopped to watch as he nodded, began to speak, and then paused to continue listening. Finally, he said, "Okay. That's good. That's just what I was looking for. Good work, Martin." He paused a moment, then added, "And pop around to ask CSI if they've got any results in the Blackwell residence yet. It's probably too sonn, but it never hurts to remind them we're working on a timeline."

Closing his phone and putting it back on his belt, he looked both ways before crossing the street to get to his car. With Samantha keeping step with him, he said, "Vivian had Martin call one of the numbers that showed up regularly on Georgina's cell phone record. It belongs to a woman's shelter. The person he spoke to there says that Georgina volunteers there, and has for years. They haven't seen her for a couple days, though."

When they reached the car, Jack unlocked the doors and then paused before getting into it. Looking over the roof at Samantha, he continued, "He also says that the last phone call to her home phone was from a pay phone outside one of the entrances to Battery Park. Her cell phone shows that she made a call to that same phone booth about an hour and a half later. It was the last call she made."

When they were seated inside, Samantha turned to Jack. Her eyes worried, she said, "That doesn't sound good."

Jack agreed, but said, "The battery could be dead, she could have lost it...who knows? Let's go to the shelter before we go back to the office. I want to meet someone who knows her and who is willing to talk a bit. It's about time we found out who this woman really is."

Samantha nodded. After reaching over to adjust the air conditioning, she settled back into her seat.

-XXX-

"She's been one of our regulars since before I started here," the manager of the shelter told them. Loosening his already-loosened tie still further, he moved to sit behind his desk. Reaching over it before sitting down, he adjusted the desk fan so that some of the breeze it generated would hit the two agents. "Sorry about the heat," he apologised as he sank tiredly into his chair, "The air conditioning is on the blink and the guy who usually fixes it can't get in until tomorrow."

The two agents murmured understanding and he returned to their original topic, telling them, "Georgina's worked here quite a while. We certainly value what she does - she's got a real good way of dealing with women scared out of their minds that their husbands or boyfriends or pimps are going to find them."

"We're having a hard time finding out much about her," Samantha said. Glancing at the fan and feeling thankful he'd been considerate enough to send some slow moving air her way, she asked him, "Did she ever talk about her life? Is there someone in particular who might have a grudge against her because she helped their wife or girlfriend get away from them?"

The middle-aged man who had introduced himself as Frank Black frowned. Running slender fingers through his already dishevelled brown hair, he said, "Not really. I mean, once in a while some guy tries to get through the front door. Threatens whoever's there, tosses furniture or whatever, but I can't think of anyone who had it out for her in particular. And as far as her life goes," he continued, "she seemed pretty happy. I know she and her husband split a little while ago. She wasn't happy over that, but seemed to be coping okay. From a few comments I overheard, I don't think the husband liked the company she kept down here. I know sometimes she didn't show up for shifts, and I'm sure it was because he was giving her problems."

Samantha frowned, not liking the sound of that. "Was he physical with her?" she asked. She watched him closely as he replied. It crossed her mind that the man she was talking to might also have been a reason Georgina's husband didn't want her spending so much time here - he had comfortable good looks, was personable, and if you went for the type, earnest and well-meaning.

Frank put up a hand as though to stop such thoughts. "Oh, no. Not at all. I think he just didn't like her spending so much time down here. It's not their part of town and not, for the most part, their class of people." He shook his head. "Their class of people like to pretend that rich men don't beat their wives or hit their girlfriends." He grunted. "Some people just don't get that the only difference between violent rich men and violent poor men is that a rich man's wife can buy better cosmetics to cover their bruises and the neighbours aren't so close that they hear every argument." Picking up a pamphlet from his desk, he fanned himself with it. "It makes it easier to pretend there isn't a problem, that's all. They get so wrapped up in appearances that they forget what's being done to them is just plain wrong." He stopped talking and looked at the two agents sheepishly. "I'm sorry. As you can tell, this is a sore spot with me."

Redirecting the conversation back to Georgina, Jack asked, "Was there anyone here she was particularly close to?"

Frank paused a moment to think, then shook his head. "Not really. She talked about her sister a lot. I guess they were best friends. We were lucky, there. Her sister held a couple benefits for us we'd never have been able to pull off ourselves. She's the reason we have the second floor furnished and could afford to put in a small library and a play room for the children staying here. They're both great women."

"Why do you think Georgina was so interested in helping out here?" Samantha asked. "I mean, it's a worthy cause, but there are other, more fashionable ones to get involved in."

Frank shrugged. "To be honest, I never asked. Like I said, she was already here when I started. She's really dedicated, though. While the women are here, there's no one who becomes their friend faster, no one who works harder to find them places to stay, jobs if they need one, childcare if that's what will help. The tougher the circumstance, the more likely it is that she's the one who's going to help them."

"Does she keep in contact with them once they've left?" Samantha asked. There was something about the situation that prodded at her subconscious, demanding attention, but she couldn't yet put her finger on it.

"Not that I know of, but that's not unusual. The women coming in here are a cornucopia of needs. Once they leave, and if they're successful in getting their lives on track, they don't always want to be reminded of the difficult times they've had. We try to keep some sort of follow-up contact for a while, but that only lasts a few months. I figure sometimes they're scared to come back to this area because it's too close to home and they're afraid of being recognised."

"But surely not everyone's like that. Some must want to give back what they've received in some way?"

"Perhaps, but if they've talked to her, she hasn't said anything," he replied, effectively closing the subject.

"Is there anyone else here who's worked with her that we could speak with?" Jack asked.

Wiping sweat from his brow with the heel of his hand, Frank looked at a paper attached to a clipboard behind his desk. "Nina's on today. She's known Georgina for a couple years. She might know something of interest, I don't know."

"Is it okay if we go talk to her?" Samantha asked.

"I don't see why not. You'll probably find her in the basement, folding laundry." He smiled. "Lucky you. It's likely cooler down there."

As Jack rose to leave, Samantha paused to look at Frank, wondering what had led him to do this in his spare time.

Frank leaned back in his chair. A half-resigned, half-amused look crossed his features. Holding her gaze, he nodded. "Go ahead. Ask."

Lifting a hand to indicate the dingy walls, the piles of paper on the desk, the lack of air-conditioning, she asked, "Why do you spend your time here? What is it that makes you want to devote your free hours to a women's shelter?"

He looked away, then turned steady blue eyes back towards her. "My father killed my mother when I was fifteen. Threw her down the stairs one too many times. Broke her neck. I was old enough to stop him and I didn't know how." He shrugged. "I still don't know how to stop men from beating women, but I can help the women get away from the men who do. It's my way of saying I'm sorry to my mom."

Something about his even tone and the way he described his reasons hit Samantha hard. She felt sudden moisture build up behind her eyes. "Oh," she said softly. Rising, she followed Jack to the door. She turned before leaving. "For what it's worth, I think your mom would be grateful for what you're doing here."

Frank nodded. "I hope Nina can help you," he said.

As it turned out, they were to discover soon that they wouldn't need Nina's help to find Georgina at all.

End  
Chapter 6  
Too Good To Be True


	7. Chapter 7

Here's the next chapter. Thanks to the folks who take the time to review...and Diane, you beta'd this a long time ago and it's changed a bit since then, but thanks for your eagle eye

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Nina told them she'd known Georgina for 'years and years'. Standing in the brightly lit basement area that held two old washers and huge, industrial-sized dryer, the petite, thirty-something Filipino woman smiled as she talked, her dark eyes twinkling as she busied herself with piles of bed linens that sat in large baskets on the floor.

"I hope you do not mind," she said in a melodic Phillipine accent. Indicating the baskets with a capable hand, she explained, "These have to be done before I go. The beds are stripped every morning. It is my day for folding and getting the linen ready for tonight. I have just the pillow cases and the double sheets left to do."

She took a moment to get Jack and Samantha two folding chairs to sit down on and then resumed her work. They spoke for a while as the woman folded the pillow cases and piled them on a table. At first, Nina seemed reluctant to speak, but as her concern for her friend's wellbeing grew, she became more open.

"Georgina is a special woman. I do not know what I would have done without her," Nina admitted. "I came to this country to marry my husband. I soon learned he was very rough. I thought that was his way, and tried to please him, but it got worse and worse. When he beat me so bad I could not get up for a while, I knew I had to get away. I tried, but he found me and took me back with him. The next time he got angry, I ended up in hospital. When I got out, I fled to a shelter, but he found me again. I was scared, but had to go back with him." She shrugged her shoulders. "I had no choice. Where else could I go?" She paused a moment, her eyes taking on a faraway look. "He broke my leg with a bat the next week. He swore if I ever tried leaving him again, he would kill me." Turning dark eyes to meet theirs, she added, "I had no reason not to believe him.

The pillow cases finished, she bent down to pick up a sheet. "I could never have moved here without help. It is nice to be in a big city and walk down the street without looking over my shoulder. I would never have been able to do that in his city." She shook her head. "Georgina is a good woman. I hope nothing has happened to her."

Jack's eyes sharpened, but he kept his tone casual. "Georgina helped you move here?"

Nina paused, then stretched her arms wide to try to fold the large sheet in half. Her face partially covered, she replied vaguely, "I met people who knew her..." She stopped speaking to try to rescue an errant corner that had eluded her grasp and dropped to the floor.

Jack frowned, thought a moment, and then changed the topic. "Do you know of anyone who might have a grudge against her? Someone who might wish her harm?" When Nina dropped the uncooperative sheet corner a second time, he rose and wordlessly put out his hands to take one end of it. Nina paused in surprise and then obliged with a smile. Silently, they began a sheet-folding minuet as they talked.

"I cannot think of anyone in particular," she said, as they pulled the sheet tight and folded it, her right to the left, twice. "We do not get a lot of men coming here - just the really persistent ones, or the drunk ones... the ones who are really angry. Sometimes, the women go back with them. We try to make sure they know what they are doing when they choose to go. We tell them no matter what, those men do not own them. They do not have the right to harm them. The men do not like that, but I can not think of any man who has been particularly threatening toward Georgina." She and Jack stepped towards each other, met, and folded the length of sheet into a neat half. She took the remaining rectangle, folded it neatly into a square, and moved to put it on a table that held several piles of already-folded linen.

Samantha watched in disbelief as Jack took off his jacket, slung it onto his vacant chair, and then bent down to pick another sheet out of the basket. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Have you noticed anything different about her lately? Has she seemed nervous, talked about going away for a while, or anything like that?"

Nina paused to think, then shook her head and took the end of the sheet Jack passed to her. Resuming her dance with Jack, she said, "No, I'm sorry. Everything just seemed to be normal. I know she was scheduled for a few more hours here because her boys are with their father for a while, but that is the only change I know of."

"There's nothing else?"

Jack's question, gently asked, seemed to trouble the woman for some reason. A slight frown crossed Nina's features. She looked away. "No, I don't think so," she told them.

They continued to speak until the sheets were all folded, then the two agents prepared to leave. They were about to go out the door when Nina said in a hestitant voice, "Agent Malone?"

Jack turned.

"If I think of anything I will give you a call, I promise."

Jack regarded her with dark eyes. Nina wasn't saying all she knew, but she was withholding that information for a reason that was important to her.

"Don't wait too long, Nina," he cautioned, mentally deciding to contact her first thing in the morning if they got nowhere with their investigation that night.

The woman nodded.

-XXX-

Samantha glanced at him as they left the shelter. "You were awfully easy on her, weren't you, Jack? She knew far more than she was telling." Instinct had told her that he had not expected her to come in as 'bad cop', but she was uncertain as to why he had been so lenient.

Jack shrugged. "With her past, if she felt threatened or pressured she'd build up a wall we'd never get through. She knows more, but isn't sure it's relevant. Or isn't sure it's safe to tell us. Telling us might be betraying a trust that's important to her. If she decides we have to know, we will."

"And we can let her decide that?"

"We can't very well force her to talk," he said. "We have her phone numbers. If we don't hear from her, we'll call her," he said, indicating he could be patient, but not forever. "We'll get more from her if she talks to us willingly. I don't think she is directly involved in Georgina's disappearance, but she knows something about Georgina's life that we don't. I want to know what that is."

Jack's phone rang, preventing Samantha from commenting further. He listened a moment, his shoulders slumping. "Tell them I'll be right there," he said, before flipping his phone closed.

His posture and expression told Samantha what he was about to say before he even opened his mouth. She steeled herself.

"They just found the body of a woman that matches Georgina's description in a dumpster near the Battery Tunnel."

She stared at him in shock. For some reason, she hadn't expected this. She'd been sure that in the next day or so they would find Georgina, reunite her with her two sons, and they would all live happily ever after.

That's what she always thought. It was what kept her going.

"So it's out of our hands, now," she said, her voice faint with disappointment. Fighting the sinking feeling in her stomach, she looked at the door they had just exited, wondering how the news would affect the people who worked within.

"I'm going over there. You can get a cab back to the office, if you like," Jack told her.

She turned her gaze towards him, immediately understanding his need to put closure onto things by going to the site, even though if it was indeed Georgina's body that had been found, the case was no longer theirs.

"No, I'll go, too," she said, regretting the days gone by when she could have reached out to him.

Wordlessly they strode towards their car.

-XXX-

Martin looked up as Samantha and Jack entered the bullpen.

"Nothing new's come in, so I guess we can go," he said, sorry that the woman was dead, but also looking forward to an evening off for the first time in almost a week.

"Looks like it," Jack agreed. Looking at Samantha, he said, "Bring me your report, and we're done for the day." Looking at them both, he said, "Tomorrow morning, I want you two to have a look at Nina's history. Martin, Samantha can give you the details we already know. I want to know where she comes from, how long she's been in the country, and who she was with before she ended up in New York."

Samantha looked at him closely, her curiousity pricked. Jack was onto something. Years ago, she'd have been looking forward to talking to him about it after work. They'd have remained behind, and then, after everyone had left, gone for coffee...or to her apartment for dinner and an evening together. Now, she knew she'd finish up her work and probably go to Martin's. As Jack walked away, she stifled a sigh.

"Feel like coming to my place afterwards?" Martin asked in a low voice once Jack was out of hearing range.

Samantha nodded wordlessly.

"I'll wait for you, then," he said. "I can get a head start on this Nina person Jack's so hot on."

Refusing to rise to the bait, Samantha ignored his tone and quickly wrote down the woman's full name and address on a slip of paper. "Here's what we know so far," she said. "Knock yourself out."

-XXX-

About forty-five minutes later, Samantha stood in Jack's office doorway. Looking up, he motioned for her to come in while he continued his phone conversation.

"Yeah, that'd be good. Want me to pick something up?" He paused a moment, wrote a couple words on a paper in front of him. "That's it?" he asked. He listened to the reply, smiled, and said goodbye. Raising his head to look at her, he asked, "All set?"

She nodded, for some reason sure that it had been his English friend on the other end of the line. Resisting the urge to ask, she said, "It's all here. It doesn't feel right, though. This is the part I hate about this job. Now other people get to do the investigation into what happened."

Her comment was a subtle question as to why he was having them continue an investigation that was to all intents and purposes over. Not that she was opposed to the idea.She wasn't certain what had drawn her to this woman, but Georgina's death bothered her. Perfect life, a giving spirit, lovely kids...and an untimely death. It didn't seem fair, somehow.

"I'll keep my ear to the ground about what they find," was Jack's disappointingly vague reply.

She smiled faintly. "Thanks." Hestitating a moment, she then asked in a casual tone, "Was that your friend you were speaking to?"

"Yeah. I promised her I'd call when we were finished. I figured that meant in a couple of days."

She could hear the regret in his voice that it had been Georgina's body that had been found, not the living, breathing woman they had hoped to bring back to her children, but she could also tell he was looking forward to seeing his friend.

"At least we're going to get a bit of down time," she offered. Thinking Jack certainly hadn't wasted any time in calling the Janice woman, she finished, "It's been a while since we've been case-free. It'll be nice to go home for a decent sleep."

Jack smiled, his eyes trailing towards the bullpen. His expression became unreadable as he inclined his head towards their common work area and said, "Speaking of which, I believe there's someone waiting for you."

Samantha turned. Martin, having seen her walk towards Jack's office, was now leaning against her desk and regarding them discreetly. Stifling a quick surge of irritation, she suppressed a sigh. He worried every time she and Jack were alone together. She could understand, to some extent, why. Sometimes, however, the constant surveillance was wearing - and, when Jack noticed it, embarrassing.

"Yeah," she said. "I guess I'd better go. Have a good evening with your friend," she offered.

"Thanks," Jack said. "I will."

Still, she found herself lingering. "I guess it'll be nice to re-live old times."

Jack was disappointingly reticent in his reply. "It will be. We've a lot to catch up on."

Rising, he gathered the jacket he'd hung on the back of his chair. These moments with Samantha, when her eyes seemed not-quite-happy and filled with question always affected him. It made him want to tell her to send Martin home. It made him want to open his arms and enfold her in them. It made him want to tell her, yes, he still loved her, and always would...It-

Hardening his heart against what he knew it shouldn't be feeling, he turned towards her. Choices had been made long ago. He refused to dwell on regrets. She was where she needed to be and he- well, he was okay. He would manage.

"You have a good night, too," he said, motioning for her to precede him out the door.

End  
Chapter 7  
Too Good To Be True


	8. Chapter 8

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 8**

When Jack arrived at his apartment, he found Janice already comfortably ensconced on his sofa. He glanced around. It had only been a few hours since she'd left his office, and heaven knows what else she'd had to do, but she had already stamped her presence on the place he'd once called home but which, since his family's departure, had become merely the place he slept. Fresh flowers in a vase he didn't recognise stood on a table near the window, and she'd cleared away the takeout boxes he'd left on the coffee table and straightened the magazines and books that had lain hidden beneath them. A glance towards the door leading to the kitchen told him she'd cleared off his kitchen counter, and he could smell the warm fragrance of tomato sauce coming from a pot simmering on the stove. He felt his shoulders relax as tension he'd been holding all day began to seep away. Setting down the groceries he'd picked up at the market, he slipped off his shoes and then hung up the suit jacket he'd carried slung over his arm. Turning, he walked into the livingroom, smiling wearily.

"I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?" she asked, one graceful eyebrow raised.

"Walk in and transform a place. This almost seems like home."

She smiled. She'd been worried about what she'd find when she opened the door to his apartment. When giving her the apartment key, Jack had warned her that Maria had taken almost every piece of furniture they'd owned, and she'd wondered if Jack had bothered to replace it. It had been reassuring to enter the door and discover that he had at least begun an attempt to. She liked the obviously new sofa and chairs he'd chosen for the livingroom, thought he could have spent a little more time choosing his dining table and chairs, and had been unsurprised by his sturdy, unadorned bedroom furniture. Still, in spite of some clutter from everyday living, he was right - the place had felt empty and held none of the touches that made a place a home.

Reaching over towards a wine bottle and glass set on the coffee table, she poured him a glass of red liquid and held it out to him. "You miss that, don't you?"

He took the proffered glass and nodded, unsurprised she was getting to the heart of his existence so quickly. He did feel surprised when he discovered he felt ready for it, however. She was right. He hated coming home to an empty space and longed to feel another's presence when he opened his door.

"Yeah. I miss it a lot," he said honestly.

He sat down beside her with a groan.

"You had a long day," she commented, backing off from her inquiry to allow him time to gather his thoughts.

"Not as long as I expected."

"It didn't end well?"

"No, they found the woman's body."

It was something they would talk about later, this search for a woman found by others. Now, however, she had other priorities.

"The bag you brought in. Is that the shopping?"

"That would be it."

She rose. "Lovely. I've got everything started, so dinner should be ready in about 30 minutes. If you need to do anything first, now's your opportunity, love."

This, Jack knew, was her quaint way of telling him to go get changed for dinner. They were slipping into an old, familiar routine as quickly as they had become friends thirty years ago.

Wanting to slough off the day's sweat and grime, he asked, "Do I have time for a quick shower?" When she nodded yes, he rose, glass in hand. "I'll just be a few minutes," he told her.

-XXX-

Hair still damp and feeling much cleaner, Jack returned to find dinner ready to be served. Steaming hot pasta and veal cutlets in a fragrant tomato sauce sat on the dinner table next to a large wooden bowl of salad. He looked at Janice in surprise. "You did all this?"

She smiled back. "No, actually, a delicatessan about three blocks away did. I merely used my impeccable heating and presentation skills. I've tried it, and it tastes as good as it looks." Her smile broadened as she added, " I had you pick up bread and fresh parsley to make you feel useful."

Jack grinned. "You're too good to me." Glancing at the table again, he questioned, "So you haven't become domestic in the last few years?"

Janice laughed. "Not likely. I'm far too old to change now. Besides, why cook when there are people hired who can do it better than you? It wouldn't make sense, would it?"

"There are no cooks here," Jack noted, wondering what it was like to have always lived a life where there were people to do so many of life's unrewarding chores for you. For some reason Janice had never struck him as one of those people, and it always surprised him a little when something reminded him that she was.

"Nonsense. You think I've forgotten your knack for stir fying? You've always been a good cook. So be warned: I have every intention of giving you the opportunity to prove it!" She chuckled. "It's that, or the delicatessan is going to get a lot of business over the next few months!"

Gesturing for her to sit, Jack said, "I think I can handle cooking sometimes - if work doesn't get in the way."

They settled down to their meal, chatting about lots of things, but never quite touching what was closest to either of their thoughts. Finally, Janice put her napkin to the side of her plate. She reached over for the partially finished bottle of wine and stood up.

"Let's go sit. We've lots to talk about. Bring your glass with you, so we can get snozzled while we do."

Jack looked up in surprise, but rose and followed her. When they were comfortably settled on the sofa, she asked him, "Where do you want to start?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know that there's any one place. Things have been a little crazy." He looked at her with dark eyes. "What about you?"

"About the same, I guess," she replied. Not ready to talk about herself, she looked at him closely. "Samantha is a lovely woman," she said. She saw his features tighten.

"Yeah. But she's out of the picture now."

"But not out of your heart," she observed bluntly.

He stiffened. "Still not pulling your punches, I see."

She shrugged. "You need honesty right now, Jack. You look miserable." Holding his gaze, she asked sadly, "What the bloody hell have you done to yourself?"

He shrugged and looked at the glass of red liquid he held cupped in both hands. After a moment's silence, he finally said, "Had an affair I shouldn't have had; tried to make my marriage work and failed; let my wife - my ex-wife - scam me into losing my daughters; watched the woman I had an affair with take up with someone else...and on top of all that, I've taken a job away from someone I like and respect. I dunno...where would you like me to begin?"

She felt satisfaction that he hadn't felt the need to explain he'd fallen in love with the woman he'd had the affair with. For the Jack Malone she knew, it could have been no other way. She took a sip of her drink and sat back to regard him calmly. "I'd say what you just said was an admirable start." She placed a slender arm along the back of the sofa and touched his shoulder. "So what are you going to do now?"

"What I've been doing for a while... going to work, coming home. Talking to my kids when Maria lets me; visiting them when she says it's okay and my work allows it."

She felt anger stir at the women who had put him in this position, but carefully kept it from her expression. He had been no uninvolved bystander during the creation of the mess his life had become, and there were two sides to every story. Or, in this case, three. She'd hear Jack's side of things when he was ready, but she didn't know Maria's or Samantha's version of events. She thought she could guess some of Maria's reasoning for doing what she had done, could imagine the hurt and anger and need for revenge... but whether Samantha had loved Jack or not, and whether or not there was hope of something being salvaged of their relationship, she had no way of knowing.

That Jack was more than aware of his mistakes was evident.

"Wondering why and how the hell this happened to you?"

He smiled grimly. "Yeah. Sometimes."

Silence fell between them. Jack broke it by asking, "And what about you? You promised to tell me why you were really here."

"Did I?"

"You know you did. I've told you mine; you tell me yours."

She looked down at her glass, then reached over to fill it up again. Placing the bottle back on the coffee table, she settled herself more deeply into the sofa cushions. Leaning one elbow on the back of the sofa she raised her glass. "Cheers," she said, before taking a large sip.

Jack nodded, took a long swallow of his wine, and waited.

"I don't know if I'm snookered enough," she finally said.

"You don't need to be drunk. What happened?"

She gazed at the wine in her glass and said in a low voice, "I did the same thing you did, only worse."

Jack again waited wordlessly.

Finally looking up at him, she said, "I fell in love with the wrong person at the wrong time and made a mess of it." She smiled. "Terrible, isn't it? Two old codgers like us, acting like love-sick teenagers..."

He looked at her silently, wondering the odds of their doing the same stupid thing at the same time in their lives. There was something else that he found even more surprising.

"I can't believe you had an affair," he said.

"I didn't, actually," she replied. With a quirk of her lips she added, "You know me, 'One at a Time' has always been my motto - in spite of the number of 'ones' I've had."

"Then I don't understand," he said. "You've fallen in love with someone you're not having an affair with?"

She turned soft eyes to meet his. "Actually, you can forget the affair. I've fallen in love with the foolish man I married. Really fallen in love, I think. I didn't realise it until it occurred to me he was seeing someone else on the side. I don't know what to do about it."

"You're sure?"

"About my loving him or about his seeing someone else?"

"His seeing someone else. I credit you with some sense in knowing how you feel," he said. He remembered she'd ended her second marriage because her husband had been unfaithful. She had been hurt, but had moved on quickly and apparently effortlessly. The number of times she'd married had told him she had a bad habit of falling madly in 'like' and thinking it was love. He'd always hoped she'd find the real thing, and had known that when she did, she'd settle and never look back.

"Then yes, I'm sure of it. He's seeing someone."

"So you left, leaving him with whoever it is."

She waved the hand not clutching a wine glass. "Yes, I know it doesn't seem all that wise now, but at the time, it seemed a brilliant idea."

"You thought he'd either come to his senses and realise that once you were gone he couldn't live without you, or that at the very least you wouldn't have to watch what was happening."

She nodded.

"You never considered the idea of confronting him?"

She shook her head.

He paused. Slowly, he turned to look at her, his face serious.

"That has got to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard. What the hell were you thinking?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

Janice's stiffened, then saw the gleam of humour in his eyes. Relaxing, she smiled. "I don't know," she said, smoothly adjusting to his honesty. "As I said, it seemed-"

"Like a good idea at the time," Jack finished for her. His lips curved in an affectionate smile. "And we all know where your good ideas usually land you." His smile fading, he asked, "Didn't you talk to anyone about this before packing your bags and heading this way?"

"I thought about calling you when I first became suspicious. I did want to talk to someone. But then Terry wrote about what had happened between you and Maria. I figured you had enough on your plate."

Jack stilled. "Terry?_ Terry Baldwin_ told you about Maria?" he asked, surprised that the two still kept in contact. His mind raced backkwards in time, trying to remember the times Terry or she had mentioned each other. Terry had been around the whole time Jack had been in Quantico, and Janice had been in New York on assignment for six months during the same period. It had been before Jack had met Maria, and although they had all been busy, the three of them had seen a fair amount of each other. Had even, for a time, laid claim to the same small apartment. Jack grimaced. Terry probably hadn't seen Janice since then, but he would have kept in contact because Terry was Terry and he did things like that. He would also have had no problem with letting Janice know what was happening in Jack's personal life. Hell, he would have felt it his God-given duty to do so.

Seeing Jack's reaction and knowing she had better calm the waters, Janice told him quickly, "He didn't tell me everything. We only e-mail each other every now and again. He wrote right after he spent some time working on a serial murder case for you - with the profiling, or something, I think he said." She raised an expressive eyebrow at him. "He told me a lot more about Samantha than you did. He said he thought it was pretty serious, even though you claimed it was over. When Maria left, he e-mailed to let me know. He's much better at keeping me posted than you," she finished, her tone slightly accusing.

"I wanted to wait until things were settled," he said, wondering how talking about her problems had suddenly turned back into talking about his. Feeling overwhelmed that Terry had somehow got his ten cents worth involved, he tried to take back control of the conversation. "We'll talk about that later. Right now, we're supposed to be talking about you." Reaching over to pour himself another glass of wine, he discovered it empty. Rising, he told her he'd be right back and walked with a slightly unsteady gait into the kitchen. When he returned, he carried another, freshly opened bottle.

Pouring her a glass before he sat down, he said, "So you're here, he's there - and probably with whoever it is he's seeing on the side. What's his name, anyway?" The wine was beginning to go to his head, and his thoughts were a little fuzzy. "And just how do you think running away from the problem helps you keep him?"

Janice took a moment to reply.

"His name's Charles, and I was hoping he'd miss me," she finally said. She looked at her hands, then lifted them in a gesture of helplessness. "But unlike you and Maria, we have no children to tie us together. There's just us, and I'm not enough. If he's sought someone else out, I have nothing to draw him back." She looked at him with dark eyes. "Maria was a very lucky woman. She had something to encourage you to keep trying."

Jack grunted. "Until she decided she didn't want me to try any more." He looked at her. "A marriage has to be based on more than just its offspring," he told her. "You know that as well as I do."

She shook her head. "No, I don't. And neither do you. Without children, there's nothing to make him stop and think about giving me up."

"Well, there certainly isn't if you insist on not giving him the opportunity to think."

"So you're saying I blew it by leaving?"

"Janice, I'm saying that maybe it would be better if you gave this Charles person a chance. Perhaps he's not having an affair. Remember the things Maria thought about us? She probably never got over the suspicions, but at least she and I talked about it and got it out into the open. It gave me the opportunity to explain our friendship and to reassure her."

Janice nodded. He'd told her about Maria's concerns and had said that everything was okay once they'd talked about it. Janice had taken a more cynical view of matters, and strongly suspected there being an ocean between them had helped reassure the wife far more than the talk had. She'd also always felt strong suspicions that their rare contact during the past ten years had been largely due to Jack trying to keep Maria's jealous streak soothed.

She'd never quite got over her dislike of Jack's wife because of it.

"Did you and Maria talk about Samantha?"

Jack paused. "She had no idea who I'd been seeing at first, but yes, she knew something was wrong, confronted me, and I admitted I had been seeing someone. It wasn't until later I told her who I was seeing."

"And all the confrontation and talking helped things work out in what way?" Janice asked.

Jack knew the point she was making, but refused to be drawn. "We separated, gave ourselves time to think, and then consciously tried to make things work. You should give Charles the same opportunity." As he spoke the words, he marvelled that he was actually using his and Maria's actions as a good example of anything. He mulled the thought of that over in his mind, and something clicked into place. As it did, a tension within him eased, ever so slightly. He had done something right. He had tried.

Silence slid into place between them. When both had finished yet another glass of wine, Jack finally offered, "Think about what I've said. Give him a chance, Janice. He may or may not deserve it, but at least you'll know you tried."

The loneliness in his voice struck the chord of loneliness in her and she nodded. Reaching over, she softly touched his cheek with her fingers. "We'll see, shall we? We're both rather a mess at the moment. I'm ever so glad I'm here, though. I think having each other to talk to about our depressing love lives will help us both."

Jack smiled at the hint of hope in her voice. Sure that her high spirits would reassert themselves relatively soon, he could only hope that she would see sense when they did. It wasn't like her to give up, and he figured if she needed a push in that area, it was good that he'd be there to give it.

He might not have smiled so comfortably had he known that she sat next to him thinking similar thoughts, not about herself, but about him.

End  
Chapter 8


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks to everyone for continuing to review! Sorry about the typos in the last chapter - they were all my fault - I made some sloppy edits after Diane, my wonderful beta, saw it.

The saga continues...

**Too Good to be True**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Next morning, Samantha and Vivian both looked up as Jack breezed into the bullpen.

Vivian eyed him closely."You're looking bright-eyed this morning," she observed. "Sleep well last night?"

"Like a baby, thank you," Jack said in a light tone. "I feel great."

It was true. In spite of the fact he couldn't remember details of everything he and Janice had talked about, wasn't sure what time she had actually left, and couldn't remember crawling into bed, he felt better than he had in months. Last night the conversation had eased something inside him. On top of that, the wine had put him out cold, without the need of Lisa's sleeping pills. He'd awoken this morning and discovered that not only did he not have a hangover but actually felt better than he had in a long time. Maybe talking about his troubles had helped. Or maybe talking about someone else's troubles had helped... Or maybe it had just been nice not to spend an evening alone. Whatever the case, life looked a little less depressing, and he was grateful for that.

Samantha, after regarding him with a silent stare, wordlessly bent her head back over the papers in front of her.

"Where's Danny?" he asked, looking in the direction of Danny's desk.

"He's got a dentist appointment. He told you that yesterday," Vivian reminded him.

Jack nodded, remembering. Grinning slightly, he said, "He was dreading it, too."

"Let's be sure to remind him of that when he gets back," Vivian said in a dry tone.

"And ask for gory details, maybe," Jack grinned.

Sobering, he then asked, "Anything on Nina?"

Vivian shook her head. "Not much. I hear Martin started working on it last night, but I guess he didn't get far before he went home. He's gone for donuts at the moment. He shouldn't be much longer."

Samantha finally spoke. "What are you expecting to find, anyways?"

Sliding into an empty seat across from her, Jack placed his elbows on the table. "I'm not sure," he admitted, "But something's wrong. There's more to Nina's story than meets the eye, and the more I think about it, the more I think she can shed light onto why Georgina ended up dead behind a dumpster."

Her thoughts leaping ahead, Samantha asked, "If Nina's here illegally, you wouldn't tell on her, would you?" She winced at how school-girlish the question sounded.

He shook his head, not seeming to notice anything amiss with her question. "You aren't hearing me say it, but we're not immigration. I do want to know how she got here, though, and what she did when she first arrived. It sounds as though she came here just to marry a guy, sight unseen, and we know the mail order bride business can be pretty shady. Of course, since we don't know whether or not she was really married - she may have been involved in a prostitution ring. Or perhaps she carried drugs into the country for someone, or was part of the sex slave market we've been hearing so much about lately." He shrugged, not really believing that the woman he had folded laundry with was involved in any of those things. "I don't know - but something tells me there's an interesting story there, and like I said before, I have a feeling Georgina knew that story and it had something to do with her death."

Remembering the man who had visited Georgina's husband so shortly after her disappearance, Samantha asked, "Do you think whatever they were involved in also involved Rossi?".

Jack opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a comment from Vivian.

"Perhaps you should let the NYPD investigating Georgina's murder know what we've learned," she suggested.

"I will, when I have enough to give them. But this is connected to us, too. I looked up the unsolved rate of Filipino disappearances in the past two years. There are five Filipino women who have dropped out of sight within a year or so of their arrival to the U.S. In every case, they were here under contract to marry someone. In every case, they vanished and were never heard from again. Without even wiring for their photos, my guess is that Nina is one of them. I'm also wondering if the others are dead or alive...and if there are more who have simply fallen through the cracks and gone unnoticed. Something is happening to these women. I want to know what."

Vivian looked at him with astonishment. "That's quite a theory you're developing, Jack. I don't see that there's much evidence to support it, though."

"Not yet, but when Nina hears what happened to Georgina, she's going to tell us more than she did yesterday."

Catching Samantha's look at him, he was quick to add, "And it's not that I think she had anything to do with the murder directly."

Before anyone could take the conversation further, Martin arrived with a box of donuts. "Here," he said as he sat down beside Samantha. "Help yourselves." Opening the box, he passed it around to everyone.

"I found something you might find interesting," he said to Jack through a mouthful of powdered sugar and sweet dough. "Your Nina person doesn't seem to have a past beyond her arrival to New York. She's got a social insurance number, a credit rating, and all the other accrutrements of modern living, but nothing to trace her back beyond this city. I can't even find information on when she arrived here from the Phillipines."

"Which means she's using an alias."

"Not unheard of, when a woman is hiding from an abusive partner," Samantha said in Nina's defence.

"You're right," Jack replied, "But I think it's further proof we need to go back and have another conversation with her. If Georgina helped women set themselves up under new identities, we need to know how and why. Engineering the documents alone shows a lot of organization. If someone discovered what she was doing, they might have a reason to be angry. If that someone thought she could nail them for any wrong-doing, they might also be afraid. Angry and afraid isn't a good combination if you're already on the wrong side of the law." He looked across the table at Samantha. "Samantha, phone Nina. Tell her we need to talk to her, and make arrangements for us to meet somewhere."

Samantha nodded, glad for the 'we' that indicated she was not going to be left out of this second meeting. Rising, she crossed to her desk to make the call. While she did, Jack told Vivian: "I've asked for photos of the missing Filipino women, along with all the information they've got about their disappearances. As soon as it comes in, give me a call."

-XXX-

The cafe Nina had selected to meet them in was small, dark, and almost deserted. Samantha and Jack arrived early, and so chose a window seat in order to observe the falling rain and street activity while they waited. Later, when Nina arrived, they would move to a more private booth near the rear of the shop.

In spite of the tension that usually stood between them now, they slowly relaxed enough to enjoy sitting, sipping their coffee, and talking in a desultory fashion about whatever came to mind. Samantha found herself watching for his smile and enjoyed the opportunity to focus just on him without worrying how it would appear to others. Smiling at something he said, she realised how much she missed times like this and found herself remembering with a pang the easy-going companionship they had once had.

As for Jack, he felt conscious of being careful not to say the wrong thing or to intimate a closeness to her that was no longer there. Watching as emotions flowed like water across her face, he wondered at how they had got to this place. It was a delicate matter, their new relationship - if indeed you could call what was between them now such a thing. Striving for honesty, however, he acknowledged that as wary as he felt and as dangerous to his peace of mind as it might be, he couldn't deny himself the pleasure being with her gave him.

After almost thirty minutes of waiting with no sign of Nina, Samantha began to looked worried. Tapping her fingers on the table, she leaned forward and looked out of the window and down the street. "She should be here by now."

Sensing Samantha's unspoken worry, Jack nodded and tried to be reassuring. With a wave of his hand he indicated the rain pouring down on the street outside. "If she planned to take a taxi here, it'd have taken her a while to get one. Half of New York is out there fighting for a cab right now."

He was right. The heavens had opened about an hour and a half earlier, the steady downpour doing nothing to lessen the heat and much to make life even more horribly humid. It had also made taxis a very valuable, rare, and sought after commodity. Choked by yellow cabs and umbrella-toting jaywalkers, traffic was an even knottier mess than usual and not likely to ease up anytime soon. "Let's give her another thirty minutes," he suggested, oddly content to remain where he was.

She nodded and turned her gaze back to the rain outside. Her attention, however, centred on the man sitting across from her. It always did, when he was near. It bothered her somewhat that she felt so conscious of him, bothered her how aware she was of his hands, of his movements, of the expressions on his face. Sternly, she set about concentrating on things other than how it felt to share space with him again...

Which meant that her thoughts turned to his friend Janice and how late she had been with him the night before...and how close a friendship they shared. She shot Jack a quick, sidelong glance, then focussed on the rain outside. He did seem happier. She sighed, not happy with the way she felt about him moving on.

"A penny for them," Jack said, his eyes amused.

"Not worth that much," she replied absently. Turning her eyes to meet his, she was taken by the warm humour she saw in them. She rarely saw that these days. Another thing to lay at Janice's feet.

When he didn't reply, she tilted her head to one side and said, "You seem more relaxed today. Catching up on old times did you wonders." She knew it sounded as though she was fishing, but didn't care. Maybe he wouldn't notice.

He did.

"It was good to see Janice again." He smiled wryly. "She's brutally honest, but sometimes I need that."

Longing to know what the other woman had been brutally honest about, Samantha asked instead, "You've known her a long time?"

He nodded, his eyes warm. "Yeah. Since forever. She's lived quite a life. I told you yesterday about meeting her in Germany when my father was stationed there, but our lives have crossed paths a number of times. We met up when I was in the service and stationed overseas, and then again while I was in Quantico - she was here on assignment for some newspaper she was working for. She doesn't stay in one spot too long."

Samantha knew that to be true - she'd googled the woman's name the day they'd been introduced and had discovered Janice Spencer had been married four times, had had assignments all over the world, interviewed an incredible assortment of people, covered several major world crises, two wars, and the fall of a dictatorship - often with exclusive interviews. She found none of that as interesting as the woman's relationship with Jack, however.

"Quantico was before you met Maria?" Samantha asked, trying to get a lock on what their relationship had been.

And was.

And might become.

He nodded.

"So she's popped in and out of your life a lot," she prodded discreetly.

"Yeah. It's been good that way." He smiled, his eyes fixed on a distant memory. "Last time she was here, she called me from a police station. She had a long, involved story to explain why she'd been arrested, but the fact of the matter was, she needed me to bail her out. It wasn't the first time I'd rescued her."

She asked the first question that came to mind. It was a personal question, had an edge to it she was ashamed of, and was something she had no right to ask.

She asked it anyway.

"Is that what you'll be doing this time? Rescuing her from something?"

He looked away. In a thoughtful tone that surprised her, he replied slowly, "No. This time, I think she'll be rescuing me." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes when he turned them to meet hers. "I figure it's about time the tables were turned."

Taken aback, Samantha could find no way to respond to what he'd said. Looking away from him, movement outside caught her attention. A small, wet and bedraggled woman was making her way across the street towards the restaurant. "I believe our guest has arrived," she said, both glad and disappointed that their conversation had been cut short. All in all, when she thought about it later, she would feel nothing but dissatisfaction over the whole discussion. She knew she had no right to feel anything at all, knew that all that mattered at the moment was her relationship with Martin and its progress, but-

She stifled a sigh and forced herself into honesty.

It wasn't her relationship with Martin that kept her awake nights - thoughts of this man did.

End  
Chapter 9


	10. Chapter 10

Here's me again, adding another chapter to the pile! Diane, thank you as always. There are new bits here, but you're used to that by now, right? Thanks also to the wonderful people who enjoy the story and let me know...it's encouraging!

**Too Good to be True**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Once the two agents and Nina had settled comfortably in a booth near the back of the cafe, they ordered freshly brewed cups of coffee and Jack began to question Nina about Georgina.

"Georgina was not a woman to speak about herself, but I think I must tell you some things," she said, her accented voice lilting softly.

_Just maybe_ Jack thought wryly. Knowing it would have made no difference in Georgina's fate, he still wished he had pushed harder when they had spoken the day before. It may have put him just that little bit farther ahead in his new investigation. His expression revealing nothing, he said, "Perhaps you should start at the beginning, then, including how you came to be here and how you met her."

Nina launched into a story that only partially surprised him. While Samantha took careful notes, Jack listened carefully, asking brief questions but on the whole allowing her story to flow unchecked. Nina told them briefly of her arrival in the U.S. as a mail order bride and her life with an abusive partner. Then she went on to cover parts of Georgina's background they had been unaware of.

"Georgina, she help me when I come to New York," Nina told him. "I tell you that yesterday. What I did not tell you is that I was given her name by people I met in a Houston shelter. They gave me money to come here. When I arrive here, she met me and took me to the shelter I work in now. She also give me papers so that I have a new name and can start a new life. No one can find me now. I am safe. I am not the only one she do this for." Her face troubled, she said, "I think she was waiting for someone the day she disappear. I did not tell you in case I danger-" she paused, obviously struggling to find the right word, then continued, "-in case I make it dangerous for her or the woman who is coming. I worry that something bad happened when Georgina go to pick her up."

"Do you know where she was going, or who she was meeting?" Jack asked. Samantha noted that there was little hope in his tone. She understood why: they both knew from past experience that any sort of underground for secreting women away from abusive situations was guarded in secret.

Nina shook her head.

"Do you know any of the other people involved in helping these women?" Jack asked. He knew there must have been others. There was no way one person could take care of all the documentation she had provided to Nina. Nor could she work on two ends. People were being sent to her by someone.

Again, she shook her head. "Georgina was the only person I speak to when I come here. At the shelter, they know nothing, I don't think. I tell them only what Georgina tell me to say."

"What about back in Houston?"

Nina shrugged. "A worker at a shelter tell me where to go. Someone I never meet before give me money for bus and Georgina's name. She meet me here."

"What was the name of the shelter in Houston?"

Jack waited while Samantha wrote the name of the shelter down, then asked, "What is your real name?"

Nina hesitated, then said, "Juanita Fiero."

Jack frowned. It was not on the list of missing Filipino women he'd received.

"Did you use a different name to come into the country?" he asked.

She shook her head, confirming that she was not one of the women reported missing.

"Your husband did not report you gone."

She shrugged. "When he was not happy with me he often told me there were more where I come from. Perhaps he find another one."

Shocked, Samantha asked, "There was no one else to notice you were missing?"

Nina shook her head. "I was not allowed out. I meet no one in the six months I live with Kevin Murphy."

Jack turned to Samantha. "We'll need to talk to this Kevin Murphy and the shelter."

Samantha nodded. "I think perhaps we should let Victoria know what we know, too," she said.

It had been his thought exactly. "You're right," he said, warmed as always by their thoughts being in sync. Victoria, he was certain, knew what her sister had been doing and had kept quiet to protect her and the women she helped. She might continue the silence to protect others unless she knew that the F.B.I. were aware of her sister's activities.

After assuring themselves that Nina had little more information to offer and was willing to talk to the NYPD, the two agents rose and prepared to leave. On the street, it was still raining. Jack flagged down a taxi and helped Nina get in. Giving the driver a twenty, he straightened and watched as the yellow vehicle drove away.

Taking the umbrella Samantha held and holding it up over both of them, Jack looked at her. Gritting his teeth, he took a deep breath and forced his voice into a conversational tone.

"You and Martin want to go to Houston?"

He waited for her reply, steeling himself.

Samantha frowned. "Why?"

Sensing a negative reaction to his question, but not understanding why, Jack's eyebrows rose. "Because I need someone to go, and thought you and Martin might like the opportunity."

"Why not give the 'opportunity' to Danny or Vivian?" she retorted abruptly.

Jack was now totally taken aback by her response. "Samantha, I'm trying to be nice here," he said, wondering how she could have misconstrued his good intent into an insult of some sort.

"Well, stop trying so hard," she snapped.

She saw Jack's surprise, but couldn't quell the surge of anger that swept through her. She knew she should be grateful that he would be thoughtful enough to send her and Martin both off somewhere together. In most circumstances it would be a treat to be looked forward to, in spite of the work involved. Grateful wasn't what she felt, though.

Still genuinely puzzled by her reaction, Jack finally said, "Samantha, I'm sorry. I thought-"

"You thought wrong," she snapped again. "Martin and I don't need to go away to spend time together. And I hate Houston. Vivian won't want to leave the city, so let Martin and Danny go."

Jack tried to keep his face expressionless. In the five months of their affair, he and Samantha had twice used an away trip as an excuse to spend time together. For him, both trips had been wonderful, happy oases of time where they had not had to pretend they felt anything other than what they felt for one another. There had been something wonderful about entering a restaurant without worrying that they might be seen together, something intimate about sharing a room and a bed without worry. Pretending to be just another couple had been a warm, wonderful experience for him, the feeling of which he had never forgotten.

Keeping his voice calm, Jack kept his voice even. "Okay," he said. Looking at her, he again saw the hurt in her eyes that had affected him so much the other night. Worry skittered across his mind. Was she truly not happy? And if she were not, what did that mean? Sharply taking his thoughts away from that direction, he hardened his resolve not to mess up her life again. With a touch to her elbow, he wordlessly indicated that they should head towards their car.

-XXX-

Jack stood at the head of the conference table and spoke: "Samantha tells me she's not into Houston, so Martin, Danny, I want you two to grab a flight there ASAP. Look up this Kevin person Nina married and the women's shelter. Ask around. Show the pictures. We'll see if we hit anything. I'd check the legitmacy of the marriage, too."

Martin looked across the table at Samantha and frowned, wondering where Jack's criptic "Samantha's not into Houston" comment had come from.

The first opportunity he got, Martin stood beside Samantha and asked, "What was that about?" A surge of distrust made him continue, " Did Jack want you to go to Houston with him?"

Knowing where Martin's thoughts were heading, Samantha shook her head. "No, nothing like that. He suggested you and I might want to go. I told him no, I hate Houston."

Martin stood stock still and regarded her steadily. His eyes guarded, he asked, "And do you? Hate Houston?"

She looked at him, remembering how she'd felt when Jack had suggested she and Martin go there.

Shying away from where her thoughts were leading her, she averted her eyes. "I'm not too fond of it," she said. "Besides, I need to do some things around my apartment." She turned to him and put a smile on her face, "I don't get 'round there much these days, thanks to you! My plants are sending out SOS's!"

Martin looked at her closely, then allowed himself to take her words at face value. "Sounds like a plan, then." Turning, he left to talk to Danny.

Samantha rested her head in her hands. With Martin gone, the barricade against her own thoughts crumbled. There was a perfectly good reason for her anger towards Jack - a perfectly good reason that wasn't good at all.

She didn't want Jack 'helping' her relationship with Martin.

What she wanted was something quite different. What she wanted, she finally admitted to herself, was for Jack to show that he still cared. For her. She wanted him to feel hurt, or angry, or jealous, or SOMETHING about her and Martin being together. And she wanted him to show it. So that she would know that all was not lost, so that she would know there was still a chance...

His helping her and Martin spend time together meant that feelings she had hoped were still there, were not.

The pain of that realisation was almost more than she could bear.

End  
Chapter 10


	11. Chapter 11

My buddy is back... **  
**

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Jack sat at his desk, his head bent over a sheaf of papers.

To his left was a pile of papers he had just gone through. Included in that pile was a thin report containing what Danny and Martin had learned in Houston. Though on the surface it looked as though their brief trip had been for naught, he had resolved to discuss it with the team the next morning.

Now he was re-reading a report from forensics. Victoria's prints had been all over the four-bedroom home. So, of course, had Georgina's. That meant that there was the possibility that Georgina had cleared out the house herself before she disappeared. Or, becaue both prints were present, it could mean the two women had cleared it out together. Or it could indicate that, as he had originally suspected, Victoria had taken it upon herself to clear things out herself, in the fear that her sister might not return...

The phone rang. Without looking up from the papers in front of him, Jack reached over and picked up the receiver. "Malone," he said absently, his mind focussed on the ramifications of what he was reading.

"You're stepping on my toes," a voice said.

Jack straightened, then sat back in his chair and smiled. "Well, if your feet weren't so damned big, I wouldn't need to," he retorted.

A chuckle came across the line, then Terry Baldwin's deep voice continued, "How the hell are you?"

Jack paused, suspicions about the reason for this call vying with pleasure at hearing a good friend's voice.

"Why do you want to know? And why are we talking about your feet?"

"Because I hear you're asking questions about missing Filipino women."

"And this surprises you because...?" Jack asked. "I haven't checked recently, but I think looking for missing people is written in my job description somewhere - probably right after the directives to keep my pencils sharpened and my long distance phone charges low."

"I'm just wondering why the sudden interest, that's all. I've been following a series of murders that have occurred over the past three years. All the victims have been female Filipinos. All of them died after having nasty things done to them - and all the bodies were found in New York or in the Houston area."

"And you're wondering if it's just coincidence that I'm suddenly looking into the disappearances of Filipino women in particular."

"Uh huh."

Jack waited for Terry to continue, but when he didn't, he explained, "We had a missing woman turn up dead. She wasn't Filipino, but during the investigation, we met a Filipino woman, Juanita Fiero, who claimed she was helped by our MP to leave her abusive husband and start over under a new identity. The woman inferred that she was not the first nor the last woman helped. In fact, she believed that our MP was due to meet another woman the day she was killed. My gut is telling me that Georgina Blackwell's death - she was our MP - is directly related to her involvement in helping a series of Filipino women escape abusive relationships. I just haven't figured out how, or who, or even exactly, why. I don't know if it's simply because she pissed someone off by helping these women disappear, or if she stumbled upon something bigger she shouldn't have...I dunno, but there's something there, and it's much bigger than simply one murder."

"And you've drummed up the excuse of the missing Filipinos to conduct your own investigation into the Blackwell woman's death," said Terry, getting straight at the crux of the matter.

"Sure, maybe. Why not?"

Terry chuckled. "Careful, you're sounding defensive! And seems to me the last time I saw you, you were also working on a case out of your jurisdiction. This your way of telling us you're looking for a career change?"

"No, I just got curious."

"Well, at the moment, you're curious about something that's in my territory. You don't need to worry any more. It's being investigated."

"I think this Juanita Fiero might be of some help to you. Why don't you come to New York and we can talk about it?"

"I'm already here."

Jack stilled. "You sonofabitch. Where? You owe me a beer. Two, maybe. I keep losing count."

Terry laughed. "Bullshit. You owe me three, and I'm on my cell downstairs. Just getting on the elevator now. Got plans for tonight?"

A movement made Jack look up. He watched as Samantha stepped into his office and then stopped when she saw he was on the phone. He gestured that it was okay for her to come in and have a seat, and then told Terry, "Not exactly, but Janice Spencer is in town."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, then Terry said, "No kidding! How's she doing?"

Jack's voice became a little less friendly. "From what I hear, you're more likely to know than I - you've certainly been in contact with her more than I have lately. When you get up here, remind me to have a few words with you about that." He looked at the clock on the wall. Allowing his voice to ease somewhat, he said, "She's supposed to be here in about thirty minutes. You can ask her how she's doing yourself." Looking over at Samantha, he said, "I've got someone waiting to talk to me. We can continue this conversation when you get here."

After Terry said goodbye, Jack put the phone down and turned his attention to Samantha, who had settled herself in the chair in front of his desk. "Sorry about that. Got everything written up?"

She nodded. Reaching over, she placed the papers she'd brought in on his desk, then settled back to look at him curiously. A touch of amusement warmed her eyes. "You look like the cat who swallowed the cream. What's made you so pleased?"

Jack smiled. "Remember Terry Baldwin?"

Samantha nodded, her sense of ease sliding away. Terry Baldwin wasn't someone you met and then forgot. Tall, lean, and disturbingly perceptive, he was the FBI's most talented profiler, and he had made her totally uncomfortable with his observations concerning herself and Jack while working with them on a case a few years ago. She wondered uneasily what he would make of their situation now. Deciding she wanted to be as far away as possible when he arrived, she rose.

"I do," she said. "He's not someone easily forgotten." She paused to look at Jack. "You're into all kinds of reunions these days - first your friend from England, now Terry Baldwin. You're going to be busy."

Jack nodded, surprised by how good it felt to look forward to something other than work.

Wondering how long it would take Terry to get upstairs, Samantha made a movement towards the door, but couldn't resist asking, "Terry and Janice know each other?"

"Yeah, they met while Terry and I were in Quantico. Janice was here on assignment at the same time. We shared a place for a few months to save money. I think I mentioned that."

Samantha nodded. He had - just not the Terry part. And his reply hadn't got her the kind of answer she had hoped for, but now at least she knew that Jack and Janice had been close enough to have shared living space. What she really wanted to know, however, was HOW they had shared that space. Knowing there was no way to ask without giving herself away, she smiled. "Better stop in for beer or wine on the way home. And for some food, too. I don't imagine you've got much - we haven't exactly been homebodies these past few weeks."

If Jack thought it odd that she'd thought enough about his living circumstances to consider what he had in the fridge, he didn't show it. "Janice picked up some stuff last night. Good idea about the booze - we polished off my wine last night. The three of us will probably go out somewhere, though. Terry's already claiming I owe him a few beer."

Wondering fleetingly how long it had been since she'd been out with a group of people, she smiled at him. "Confuse him by telling him he owes you," she suggested.

Jack chuckled. "Tried that already. It didn't work. I think he keeps a tally in his wallet or something."

Silence fell between them as they suddenly realised they were smiling at one another. It felt good. Hard on the heels of that realisation came the shadowed discomfort of their present situations. The two days Martin and Danny had been gone had done nothing to ease the tension between them. Jack, disconcerted by her reaction over his suggestion she and Martin go to Houston, had shied away from prolonged contact with her, maintaining a cooly professional attitude during the few times contact was necessary. She, shying away from the realisation of the mess she had got herself into with Martin and the loss of Jack's affections, had done nothing to try to bridge the gap.

Now, shocked by the feelings of longing that were welling up within her, she took another step backwards. "I should go," she said. Turning, she found herself faced with a wall of white cotton, broken by a silk tie in bold colours she couldn't even begin to describe. Taking a step backward, she looked up into Terry Baldwin's amused hazel eyes. He had just rounded the corner and stepped into the office, and she could tell by the look on his face that he was making assumptions about her being here with Jack. She groaned inwardly.

"Hel-lo," he said. His craggy features breaking into a smile, he made himself totally charming and held out his hand. "Samantha, it's good to see you again." He glanced over at Jack. "How is life treating you?"

"Wonderfully," she said, smiling in spite of her discomfort. "And you?"

"I'm doing great," he said, squeezing her hand and then releasing it. After glancing at Jack again, he asked, "I'm sorry for popping up unannounced like this.You don't mind if I tag along with whatever you have planned for tonight, do you?"

Samantha stiffened and involuntarily looked over at Jack. She saw him give Terry a frown, then turned to shake her head. "I'm sorry, I've got other plans."

Terry frowned, sensing something was amiss. "That's too bad. I was looking forward to catching up on things." He looked over at his friend. His eyes holding a newfound uncertainty, he said, "Jack's been very uncommunicative lately!"

Samantha coloured slightly. Obviously Jack hadn't told Terry their status. "I'm sure he can do that himself, with enough prodding," she replied, covering her embarrassment.

Jack cleared his throat. "It looks as though your 'other plans' are waiting," he said, indicating with a nod of his head that Martin had taken up the now-familiar position of leaning on Samantha's desk and covertly gazing in the direction of Jack's office.

Glad to be out of the spotlight and gladder still to have been given an out of this uncomfortable situation, Samantha nodded. A brittle smile plastered on her face, she nodded at Jack. "I'd better not keep him waiting." Turning to Terry, she said, "It's nice to see you again."

Terry, who had followed Jack's gaze to where Martin stood waiting, turned his attention back to Samantha. Looking slightly stunned and uncertain as to what was going on, he nodded vaguely and said, "Yeah. It was good to see you, too."

Samantha escaped before more could be said.

End  
Chapter 11


	12. Chapter 12

This maybe the last post for a couple weeks or so. I'm off on holidays, and doubt I'll be writing much. I have a one-off almost completed, though, so I'll try to post that while I'm away just to keep people entertained!

Thanks for all the reviews. They let me know there's real people out there reading and are fodder to the writing flame. I'm glad so many people remember Terry fondly. He'll be in and out of this story now until the end, I think. Diane, merci beaucoup for the beta-ing, as always.

Nova Scotia, here I come!

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

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**Chapter 12**

After Samantha left, Jack regarded Terry with a mixture of amusement and something not so easily defined. "Geeze. I've seen it before, but I'm always caught by surprise how smoothly those size twelves fit in your mouth," he said.

Terry sat down in the chair vacated by Samantha, his expression genuinely confused. "What the hell happened? I took for granted that-"

Jack held up a hand. "Never take anything for granted," he interrupted. "Samantha's seeing Martin Fitzgerald now."

His friend gave a low whistle. "Holy hell. Victor Fitzgerald's kid?"

Jack nodded. Knowing this conversation was inevitable, he prayed to God he could keep it brief.

Terry looked over to where the two people they were discussing prepared to leave for the night. "I'd never have thought-" He turned his gaze back towards Jack, and for once seemed almost at a loss for words. "It's serious?" he finally asked.

Jack shrugged. "It appears so. They've been pretty quiet about it. No announcements, or anything like that." Eyes unreadable, he looked out into the bullpen. "They're good together, I think. Martin's liked her since the day he started here. He's good to her. Good for her."

Terry recognised the sound of a man trying to convince himself of something he found unpleasant and maybe heartbreaking. Knowing anything approaching sympathy would not be well received, he commented, "Daddy's not going to like it."

"Maybe not, but they're being discreet. Fitzgerald probably doesn't even know, yet. Besides, Samantha's more than just beautiful - she's a good person."

Terry shook his head. Dying to know what the hell had happened, but knowing better than to ask, he said, "It'll take more than a pretty smile to win him over. Vic's got plans for his son, and I don't think they include him being seriously involved with someone who doesn't add to the family status in some way."

"He'll get over it," Jack said, wanting this line of conversation to end.

"Will you?"

The question had come like a bullet, hitting him squarely in the gut.

Jack winced. "God, you and Janice," he said.." Between the two of you it's a wonder I have any feelings left. What do you do? Compare notes on low blows?"

Terry put both hands up in the air. "I'm sorry. But you can't blame me for wondering. I know what I saw when I was here on the Spaulding case," he said, his voice quiet and low. "This-," he looked towards the now vacant bullpen area, "This... well, it's not what I foresaw when I heard that Maria was in Chicago and you were divorcing."

"Obviously psychic prediction is not your calling, then. And it's not something we're going to discuss , anyways. You're here about the Filipino women, remember?"

Terry regarded Jack with dark eyes, then shrugged. There would be time to talk this out later. Knowing when to back off, he smoothly switched tracks and said, "Yeah. I guess I am. I wanna talk to this Juanita woman. This is the first time we've had a live confirmation that there's some sort of system in place for removing women from the Houston area and setting them up here in New York. I'm wondering if there's a connection to the serial killings somehow. Both appear to be confined to Filipino women, after all. That kind of coincidence draws my attention." Terry moved to cross one long leg over the other. "I wonder if the woman that your MP was supposed to meet is dead. If she's not and we can find her, she may have seen or heard something and be the golden lead we need."

Jack regarded him silently, uncertain how an underground railroad for Filipino women related to the serial killings Terry was investigating. A railroad rescued people; it didn't kill them...He shook his head. It just didn't make sense. "There's no way Georgina Blackwell was involved in some sort of 'move them out and murder them' scheme," Jack told his friend. "And Nina - Juanita Fiero, that is - is living proof of that."

Terry nodded. "You're right. What I want to find out from her is if there is some person she's met along the way who connects with some of the people we've met during our murder investigations. You know how I enjoy finding coincidences."

Jack nodded in understanding. "And I suppose I'd be doing my part by comparing the people I find involved with the missing cases to the other two groups..."

"That would be most helpful, yes," Terry agreed amiably. He spread open his hands expansively. "See how we can all help one another?"

"Don't act as though I need convincing about the value of cooperation!" Jack grumbled. "You called to complain about my being on your territory, not the other way around. I never said I minded other people involved."

Terry grunted. "Especially since you shouldn't be involved in the first place. You know the NYPD would be damned ticked off if they found out you're conducting your own little investigation on the side. So would your boss here, for that matter." He cocked his head to one side and his eyes closed slightly as he stared at Jack and finished, "It's just eating you inside about who killed this Blackwell woman."

Knowing he was right, and worse, knowing Terry knew he knew he was right, Jack didn't bother to argue. He had no explanation for his reaction, anyways. It just bothered him. The thought that someone so young, so involved and alive should end up the way she had...Pulling himself together, he changed the subject. "And when are you going to let me in on what you've profiled about the guy doing the killings?" he asked. "Are you going to talk to the NYPD? You'll want the forensic information from the murder site. There wasn't much there that looked helpful, but we were thinking one murder, not a series."

Terry regarded Jack with serious eyes. Considering what he had just learned about Jack's personal life, he strongly suspected that Jack's focus on this case was largely due to his need to give his attention to something other than his personal disappointments. Wise enough not to make that observation aloud, he said, "I've got an appointment for tomorrow morning already." He tapped a finger on the arm of the chair. "It's about time more people were let in on this."

"I'm half surprised you haven't done something in that direction already."

Terry shrugged. "It's always difficult to know when to make these serial things public - you don't want to spur the perpetrator on and you definitely don't want copycats or media hysteria or evidence interpreted the way some fool thinks you want it interpreted. We're going to have to take the risk, I suppose."

Jack nodded. "I'll give you Juanita's information. I think she'll talk to you, no problem, but I want to make sure she's kept safe. It might sound alarmist, but if whoever killed Georgina finds out that there's someone here talking, they may want to silence her. I'd like to prevent that from happening."

The phone rang. Jack picked up the receiver quickly, listened a moment, then said a quick, "Send her up." Placing the receiver back on the telephone carefully, he looked over at his friend. Setting business aside for the time being, he smiled and said, "Janice is here. Now you two can join forces and really make my life painful."

Terry laughed. "Nah, we'll go easy on you - for now. I kinda want to know what's going on with her. Why's she here, anyway? I thought she was happily ensconced in some little English village, playing lady of the manor, or something."

"You'll have to ask her yourself. Not having your propensity for gossip, I don't have all the finer details."

The barb had no effect, clattering to the ground unnoticed. Jack sighed inwardly. Terry had the hide of a buffalo.

"Anything else about the case can wait for tomorrow, right?" Terry asked.

Jack nodded, thinking of Victoria Newbury and the cleared-out house, and of Stefano Rossi's visit to the husband. Yeah, there was more to the case he could mention, but it could wait. He allowed himself a moment's satisfaction that here was something interesting, something different to take his mind off the things it needed to be taken off of. He looked across his desk at Terry, and thought of him and Janice. Here, too, were old friends. In spite of his saying otherwise, it would be good to have them close for a while.

He heard heels tapping a staccato on the hallway floor and watched Terry rise to observe Janice as she walked by the windowed walls to the office door.

There was something in his expression that Jack was pretty sure he recognised.

When Janice entered the room, she immediately flung her arms open. "Terry!" she exclaimed, allowing herself to be engulfed in the tall man's embrace. "It's so good to see you!" Stepping back, she looked up and asked, "What are you doing here? You look fantastic, you know that? This is such a wonderful surprise! What's it been? Four? Five years?"

Terry frowned in thought, then said, "Five, I think. I was in London, speaking at a convention."

"That's right! And I only found out you were there by accident!" Janice scolded. "You should have been ashamed of yourself. Good thing I read obscure things in the newspaper, or I'd never have have known! I can't believe you didn't let me know yourself!"

Jack watched the two of them as they continued to discuss their last meeting. Clearing his throat to draw attention to the fact there was someone else in the room, he said, "Excuse me for butting in, but maybe you should just agree Terry won't ever show up in England without notifying you again?"

The two smiled at one another.

"I think that's fair," Terry said.

Janice laughed and looked at Jack. "If he can agree with something you say, I suppose I have to! And I can't believe you didn't tell me he was coming!" she scolded.

The accused threw his hands up. "I didn't know he was here myself until about forty-five minutes ago. He never tells me anything."

Terry came to Jack's defence. "This time, he's telling the truth. I phoned him from the lobby downstairs."

Janice glanced from one man to the other. "Then you're forgiven," she told Jack in a gracious tone.

"So I can safely get my jacket and we can leave?"

Janice nodded. "You can get it, but you won't need it. It's an oven out there, though I have to say I rather like it. The news is giving heat warnings, and saying dire things about heat strokes and air quality and all sorts of horrible stuff." She pretended to shudder. "We never have to worry about that sort of thing at home." She looked out towards where a wall of windows faced the outside. "I can't say I mind the heat, though. It's comforting, somehow."

She looked cool and fresh in a thinly-striped sundress that skimmed her figure and left her arms bare. Considering her appearance and the heat they were about to enter, the two men felt suddenly rumpled and hot.

Avoiding making a disparaging comment about English weather she might feel a need to get him back for, Jack rolled up his sleeves. "Okay then. We'll go somewhere that's got good air conditioning."

"No, we're going to go to a place I just found that has an outside patio," she said happily. "It's called _Malinche_ and I've made reservations. I'm told simply_ everyone_ goes there and it's not to be missed." Glancing up at Terry with a smile, she said, "I'm sure they can accommodate one more person."

She spoke with a conviction Jack could only hope was well-founded.

Reaching for his jacket, he turned and looked at her. She stood talking and smiling up at Terry, showing no sign of the worried, hurt woman he had been with the night before. Terry, too, seemed happy just to stand there and talk. He smiled. This reunion of theirs might be good for all concerned.

With that comforting thought, he walked towards the door. Looking at Terry, he winked. "Last one to the elevator pays," he said, as he strode quickly out into the hallway.

End Chapter 12


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks to everyone who's read "_The Cost_' for the first time or re-read it because of Terry's presence in this story and been thoughtful enough to send a comment about it. Wow. Really cool.. For those of you still patient enough to read and review _this_ story: you have my unfailing gratitude!

Diane, thanks heaps.

Justine. Get writing. And those clandestine, 'not-so-public' kick in the butts?...be careful. I sometimes counterattack...

Sorry for the delay...If you remember, Terry had just learned about Samantha and Martin Fitzgerald, and he, Jack, and Janice were about to leave for dinner...

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel**  
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**Chapter 13**

Jack's dinner with Terry and Janice had been filled with traded insults, happy memories and none of the barbed probes into his personal life he had feared. Instead, for a few hours he'd shed his worries, forgot the things that depressed him, and enjoyed himself. Saying goodnight outside the bar they had ended up in, Jack had watched as his two friends shared a taxi back to their respective hotels. Turning to walk towards where he'd left his car, he dug his hands into his pockets and smiled. Life was good - and made better by having people around he could share with. His life these past years, he realised, had had too little of that kind of sharing

With the word sharing, his thoughts automatically turned to the woman he most wanted to share his life with. Carefully touching the now-familiar sense of hurt and loss, he sighed. Even though he knew it unfair and irrational, he had somehow thought Samantha would always be there, waiting for some unknown time in the future when the timing would be right. Seeing her move on, and finding happiness and love with someone else, had wounded him in a way he had not known possible.

An overwhelming sense of loneliness that not even an evening spent with friends could prevent swept over him. Taking a deep breath, he opened his car door and got in.

-XXX-

The next day, any calm that the Missing Persons Department had been enjoying was quickly destroyed. Two children were reported missing within three hours of Jack's arrival at his office, then later that afternoon an adult woman was reported missing. Over the next three weeks he and his team were constantly busy, solving one case only to have another missing person's case take its place. Totally committed, the team had worked long hours, and even after calling in more help, had rarely gotten more than a few hours off in any given twenty-four hour period.

Now, finally, things seemed to be letting up. At least Jack hoped they were. Sitting in his office, he picked up a file folder that had never left his desk. In spite of his preoccupation with his own duties, he had kept tabs on the investigation into Georgina Blackwell's murder and the missing Filipino women. Looking at the phone, he wondered if he should call Terry, then thought against it. He had maintained contact with Terry after he had returned to his home base in Los Angeles, and knew he would have called if there had been any further developments. Now, with things quieted down in his own department and spurred on by the lack of progress on the NYPD's part, he hoped to soon resume his own investigation.

Sighing heavily, he looked at the clock, then leaned back in his chair and took off his reading glasses. Rubbing his eyes, he wondered if it would be worth it to go home for a few hours' sleep or if it would be better just to lie down on the office couch and nap there. Unable to make a decision, he decided to lie down while he thought about it.

-XXX-

A light touch on his shoulder brought him slowly awake.

"Jack," a soft voice said.

He moved slightly, turning his face away from whomever threatened his sleep.

"Jack!" This time, the voice was accompanied by a gentle shaking of his shoulder.

He remained silent, unwilling to move.

"Jack," the voice spoke again, softly insistent.

Keeping his eyes firmly closed, he finally spoke. "You're not going to go away, are you?"

"Not a chance."

He could feel the warm amusement behind the reply:

Opening one eye and then the other, he looked at his tormentor and thought her beautiful. Samantha was kneeled beside him, her face only inches from his own. Caught with his guard down, he stared at her as memories washed over him. Longing surged through him, heavy and insistant. He raised a hand as though to touch her, then paused and let it drop. Slowly gathering his defences together, he cleared his throat and looked away.

"What time is it?"

"Four o'clock," she said. Feeling a sense of disappointment she couldn't define, she leaned back and straightened up.

"A.M. or P.M.?"

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. "When was the last time you slept?"

He grimaced. "I don't remember."

"Well, it's A.M., and you were snoring. Loudly. Very loudly."

Slowly, he sat up and swung his legs so that his feet touched the floor. In a querulous tone, he told her, "What I do in the privacy of my own office is my business. Now, why did you come in and wake me up? And if it's four A.M., why the hell are you even here?"

Totally unaffected by his abruptness, Samantha moved away and said, "I didn't make it home - I fell asleep at my desk. When I woke up, I started working, assuming I was here alone. Then I heard this godawful noise coming from your office." She looked at him, a suspicion of fondness warming her expression. "I thought someone was in here killing a bear," she added lightly. "It's hard to believe one person can make that much noise..."

"Don't be funny," Jack grumbled. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he allowed himself a moment to feel old and tired.

She looked at him closely, worry creasing her brow. These past few weeks had taken their toll. Normally, even at the busiest of times, he would have gone home to see the girls, or to grab a nap or a meal with the family. Usually, he returned with a new sense of energy about him. Now, with no one and nothing to call him there, he stayed at work.

She thought it did him little good.

Her voice now serious, she told him, "Jack, you've got to get some rest. You can't keep on like this. You should be home." Seeing that he didn't seem convinced, she added in a reasonable tone, "The paperwork's almost finished and there's no one on the whiteboard. You should leave and get some real rest. Everyone else has."

He knew that tone. She was trying to make him see reason when he didn't feel like seeing it. "I was resting here just fine until you woke me up," he said grumpily. Looking up at her, he asked, "And what do you mean, I can't keep on like this? I'm fine."

Samantha shook her head in disagreement. "Every one of us has had a day off here and there over the past few weeks except you. You've been living here, for heaven's sake. God, when was the last time you were even home?" She waved a hand at the elevators. "You've had Janice bringing you clean clothes and us bringing you in food..." Her hand moved upward, "...and you're showering upstairs." She shook her head again and dropped her hand. "You need a break. You need to get out of here. You need to go home and rest properly."

Jack slumped back into the sofa, trying to gather some strength to refute her words. "I've heard this argument already, Sam."

She paused, surprised. He didn't call her that anymore, almost never. Everyone else did now, it seemed, but he'd stopped. It was always 'Samantha' now - a quiet, multi-syllabic reminder of the distance between them.

She drew her wits about her. "From Janice?" she asked.

"From Janice."

Samantha struggled to keep her face expressionless. Of course Janice would have spoken to him. She fought down a surge of jealously. Janice had popped in and out regularly over the past few weeks, smiling and easygoing and disgustingly upbeat. She'd always spent a few moments alone with Jack, and recently there had been obvious concern on the older woman's face when she spoke to him. Though glad there was someone watching out for him, she still felt resentment. Time was, she would have said something herself, but now...She stifled a sigh. It wasn't her place to say anything at all.

"You should listen to your friend," she said reluctantly.

"I suppose I should," he admitted, still feeling groggy. "But she's not here at the moment. She's in D.C."

Something caught in Samantha's throat. That explained two things: why she hadn't seen Janice visit the last couple of days and also why he hadn't bothered to leave when the cases had begun to wind down. No Janice.

"You can still go home and get some sleep," Samantha insisted, trying to shut out the mental picture of Janice and him together.

He stared out into the bullpen, taking a mental inventory of how he felt.

The survey results weren't encouraging. Two hours sleep in the past forty-eight just hadn't been enough. A total of six in the past seventy-two definitely weren't. Maybe Samantha was right. Still trying to avoid making a decision, however, he asked, "So why the hell are you here, then?"

"I told you: I fell asleep."

His eyes drifted back towards the bullpen. "And Martin? Where's he? You were both supposed to go home and get some rest before coming in to finish the paperwork today."

Not liking the way he'd clumped her and Martin together, Samantha said, "He went home. I didn't. I wasn't in yesterday until late in the morning, remember? I decided to stay and get a head start on today." She looked rueful, then added, "Would have, too, if I hadn't fallen asleep."

"You were more tired than you thought," Jack said, noticing - not for the first time - the shadows beneath her eyes. His voice gruff with concern, he told her, "You should have gone home. Anything you planned to do tonight could have waited. This has been hard on all of us."

Samantha smiled tiredly and fought to stifle the memory of how satisfying they had found it to curl up against each other and share their weariness. Even after their affair had ended, there were nights they sat on his office sofa with their heads resting on the back of it and their shoulders comfortably touching and allowed the silence and each other's presence to restore themselves. The memory elicited a feeling of longing for him she'd never managed to rid herself of. She wanted to sit down beside him now, and lean her head on his shoulder and close her eyes...Pushing her thoughts firmly aside, she said, "My point exactly. It's been hard on you, too."

He leaned forward again, putting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. With the adrenaline of working a case gone, he felt enervated and weak.

"Maybe you're right. I think I'm on empty."

Samantha looked at him in surprise. None of it showed in her voice, however. "Of course I'm right," she said in a reasonable tone.

Jack rose. "I'm gone."

Samantha looked at him, noticed he was slightly unsteady on his feet.

"Let me drive you," she said impulsively. "I'm on my way home now, anyway." She looked down at herself. "I need a change of clothes."

It was a sure sign of how tired he was that he didn't argue. "Sounds good to me," he said as he gathered his jacket and headed for the door.

She watched him leave, then shook her head in exasperation. Gathering up the dirty clothing he'd been accumulating in a gym bag beside one of his filing cabinets, she then picked up two suit jackets off his coat rack and followed him out the door.

She'd leave them at the cleaners on the way.

-XXX-

Jack opened his eyes and took a moment to get a bearing on where he was. The phone ringing shrilly in his ear, he quickly ascertained he was in his apartment and in his bed. Reaching over, his hand fumbled around for the phone, found it, and then brought it to his ear.

"Malone."

"What the hell do you think you're doing sleeping at this hour?"

"What makes you think I'm sleeping?" Jack asked, suppressing a yawn. "And what hour is it?"

"It's just past noon. I'm back in town and in your office and you're not here. God, I leave for a while and you start slacking off. Samantha told me you're home, getting some sleep."

Jack slowly struggled to a sitting position. "Which, I might point out, you are sadly depriving me of. What's this all about?"

"You still interested in finding out Georgina Blackwell's story?" Terry said.

"Yeah, shouldn't I be?" Jack asked. Rising, he walked to his closet to see if he had any clean shirts left.

"Technically, no, you shouldn't. But I do appreciate anything you might dig up," Terry replied, "so I'm hoping you and your people can help me out. I've even got official permission to ask!"

There were three white shirts in his closet, still in the flimsy plastic they had come home from the cleaners in. Another bag held two suits. Bless Janice.

She had moved into his place more than a week earlier, letting her hotel room go. He, of course, hadn't been here to notice her presence, but the shirts lined up in front of him were a tangible proof of it.

_"It'll help save on expenses, and quiet down my editor when he rants about how long I'm taking to write what needs to be written," she'd said, smiling. Jack had somehow doubted the excuse, thinking that what she'd said next was closer to her true reason: "And it'll give me a chance to keep an eye on you. We've both been so busy lately we hardly see one another. Perhaps if we're living in the same place we'll at least pass in the hallway occasionally." He'd had no objection to the idea. _

Now, she was out of town for a couple of days and he discovered he missed her. In spite of how busy she'd been interviewing people and gathering background information for her series of articles, she had dropped by almost daily, even if it were just to bring him a clean set of clothing.

"You still there?" Terry asked.

"Yeah, I'm here," Jack said. Scratching his chest, he tried to clear his head. Shower. Shave. Dress. Get to work. His next few moves organised, he finally said, "I should be there in about forty-five minutes. I've just got to shower and throw some clothes on."

There was a short bark of laughter on the other end of the line, making Jack immediately regret his choice of words.

"The world will thank you for doing both! And take your time choosing what to wear...I can only imagine the difficulty in choosing between a white shirt and a white shirt! And then there's the terrible debate over which black tie to put with it...I don't know how you handle the stress," Terry teased.

There was a pause, then he continued in a suddenly somber voice, "There's another woman reported missing in Houston, and NYPD found a body here today we may be interested in. I'll fill you in when you get here."

"See you then," Jack said. Walking over to the bedside table, he placed the phone back on its cradle and headed for the shower. His bones still felt weary, but the idea of a possible lead lightened his step.

End  
Chapter 13


	14. Chapter 14

It's Monday! Here's the latest installment. Thanks for the reviews and positive reinforcement! Maple Street...you're my inspiration.

And one more comment: Sarah (aka RED5) - one WaT fic is NOT ENOUGH. How about making good use of your time and trying another one!

This chapter is mostly plot development. It opens with Jack arriving at his office and finding Terry lounging about...

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

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**Chapter 14**

An hour after being awoken by Terry's phone call, Jack strode into his office to find his friend talking on his phone with his feet comfortably propped up on his desk. Making a quick movment with his thumb, he made it clear he wanted the feet on the floor. With a silent grin, Terry continued his conversation, but slowly moved his feet.

When his conversation was finished, Terry replaced the receiver and rose. "Took you long enough," he commented. Eying Jack's typical black-suit-and-tie-with-white-shirt ensemble he added, "What happened? Trouble finding a tie to match?"

"This, from a guy who dresses like an English professor," Jack quipped as he sat his desk.

"I'm told women go for the look."

Jack snorted. "You haven't dated in a decade."

"So it's been a slow decade. It'll pick up," Terry grinned.

"While it's picking up, do you suppose we could discuss what it is you woke me up for? I told Vivian on the way through we'd be meeting with everyone in about half an hour."

Taking his usual seat across from Jack, Terry tilted his head towards the phone and said, "That was NYPD I was talking to. The woman they found wasn't killed by our guy." Shaking his head, he continued, "They just about gave me a heart attack when they called this morning and said they thought they had another body I'd be interested in. I was half prepared to think my theory was wrong, and that the girl didn't get away. That would've meant we had no one out there who might have seen something. Anyways, it looks like we're in the clear. The woman was Filipino, but she was stabbed. With an ice pick, so not much blood. The neck was broken, but post mortem, probably when she was dumped. They've already got a suspect in custody."

Jack nodded, allowing himself to feel some relief. Settling back into his chair, he asked, "How do you want to organise this?"

-XXX-

"You've all met Terry," Jack told his team. "Last time he was here, he helped with the Spaulding case. Now, he's following a series of murders he's hoping we may be able to help him with. I'm giving you fair warning that we're going to be living and breathing this case every chance we get."

Terry Baldwin straightened his long frame in readiness to speak. A glance from Jack, and he knew he was on.

Giving a brief smile to the people gathered around the bullpen's conference table, he plunged into his message. "About twelve months ago, the Houston Police Department noticed an unusually high incidence of murdered Filipino women in that area. The similarities between a number of them led to their contacting the FBI. Almost at the same time, the NYPD contacted us, questioning a similar observation here. We checked out the rest of the country, and the occurences appear to be contained to Houston and New York. We found little to connect these women, however, besides their being Filipina and relatively new to the country. None of them knew each other, or appear to have known any of the same people."

Pausing to sip from his coffee cup, he then continued, "These women's bodies were found at varying times after their deaths - usually in long abandoned buildings, or other out-of-the-way spots. Two were buried in shallow graves. The way they were killed, however, was consistent. The severity of what is done to them before they are killed has increased over the past couple of murders and the bodies seem to be appearing at an increased rate - a typical occurence when a serial killer gains confidence and becomes more angry."

"How many to date?" Martin asked, wondering how dead women fit into their perview of missing persons.

"Over the past three years, we believe as many as twelve."

Danny gave a low whistle. "That's one every three months."

Terry nodded. "On average, yes."

"Hard to do that and get away with it," Vivian murmured.

Terry nodded. "There were a couple things in the murderer's favour," he told them. Leaning forward to place his elbows on the table, he steepled his fingers. "Both cities have high Filipino populations, and both cities have a high murder rate as well. Our killer also seems to have alternated between Houston and New York. That made it as much as six months or more between murders for either of the police departments. Six months in a busy police department is a long time. People forget."

"The women he chose," Jack offered, "were also not the easiest to trace. They came from varying enough backgrounds and were found in different enough circumstances that nothing made each individual murder stand out. Some of the women appeared to have histories that went back only a few months, which increased the difficulty. The first two victims were believed to have been in the sex trade, others were believed to have been here illegally and perhaps involved in illegal activities. Information was difficult to gather, and other things took precedence."

"So how do we fit in?" Danny asked.

Terry smiled. "For starters, you were the lucky people who stumbled on the connection between New York and Houston that we couldn't figure out."

"How's that?" Vivian asked.

"Georgina Blackwell's murder wasn't part of the series of murders we've been following, but I believe it's linked to them. She obviously wasn't the intended victim - she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Speaking for the first time, Samantha asked, "Why is it 'obvious' she wasn't the intended victim? You're saying he killed the wrong person by mistake?"

"Perhaps I mis-spoke," Terry replied. Holding his pen by each end with long-fingered hands, he explained, "There's no doubt he intended to kill Georgina. She wasn't, however, killed for the reasons that spurred him to kill the others. To date, the victims have all been Filipino. They were also held for a while, sexually assaulted, mutilated, and then murdered. Georgina Blackwell, on the other hand, was killed quickly, and was not molested or mutilated."

"If she doesn't fit his type, what makes you think it was your serial killer who did it?" Vivian asked. Totally focussed on their topic, she sat forward and placed her elbows on the table, her hands clasped in front of her.

Terry looked at her, recognising the pose. He could almost see the wheels of her mind turning. "I think he did it in order to protect himself. Something happened, Georgina saw something, or showed up at an unexpected time, and he had to make a quick decision to kill her."

Without giving Terry a chance to continue, Martin stirred restlessly and shook his head. His brow furrowed, he said, "What you're saying is pure conjecture. I'm with Vivian - what makes you think your guy killed her? There's every possibility there's another killer out there. What is there to indicate this was done by your serial guy?"

Terry placed the pen carefully on the desk. He looked at it a moment, then said, "There is one glaring thing that links her murder with the ones I've been investigating - coincidence. Coincidences always make me sit up and take notice, and there's two staring me in the face right now I can't ignore." Holding up one long finger, he said, "Number one: The victims are all Filipino and we know that Georgina was working with an underground organisation that has helped Filipino women get away from abusive situations. That by itself," he admitted,"is a pretty tenuous connection, but add the second coincidence, and it's time to pay attention."

His gaze sweeping the circumference of the table, he held up a second finger.

"Coincidence number two involves _how_ she was killed. Georgina was killed in the same way as the women murdered by the guy I'm tracking. She wasn't raped or mutilated first, but her actual death was caused in the same way as the others."

Jack took over the explanation. His gaze skipping from one agent to the next, he said, "Our guess is that the killer didn't expect to meet up with her, but when he did, he felt he had to act quickly and finally. Because he was caught by surprise, he relied on the method of killing he was most accustomed to."

"And that was?" Vivian asked.

"He broke her neck."

Vivan winced. "So he likes up close and personal."

"That he does."

"That still doesn't explain how we fit in," Danny prompted.

Terry smiled. "You fit in right where you belong. You've got background information on Georgina's activities that we need to explore further, and," he said, nodding towards a pile of file folders in front of Jack, "I have a few missing persons cases in New York and Houston I need you to take a look at. You're not familiar with any of them because NYPD didn't send them your way - they investigated and felt it wasn't worth your while. Houston police don't have an FBI Missing Persons unit to refer to - they investigated, found little or nothing, and moved on. We're going to take a closer look, see if we can find out what happened to these women, and at the same time, see if we can't discover what the hell is going on with that underground you stumbled upon. We know that it works from Houston to New York. Maybe it works New York to Houston, too. That would lend significance, perhaps, to the new missing persons report I received this morning from the Houston police."

Jack spoke up again. "And since, as Terry says, Houston doesn't have an FBI Missing Persons, I've requested and received permission to generously donate our time and services to help wherever we can. Our first priority will be to any new cases we're handed, but I've been assured that we won't be called upon unless absolutely necessary."

"What's the profile so far on this guy?" Samantha asked.

"We think he's reasonably young," Terry answered. "Twenty something, Caucasian. Likely quiet as a child, smart, analytical. Holds a grudge, which is what we think is at the root of these killings. I definitely get the feeling he's seeking revenge in some way. Eventually, we may figure out for what. And then," he said, rounding up his speech, "there's the sexual aspect to the murders - all the women were raped. That shows a need for dominance. The mutilations are not ritualistic, so cruelty lies behind them." He stopped and lifted a hand, palm up. "So far," he admitted regretfully, "that's all I have."

Martin still looked doubtful. "It's still a pretty tenuous theory," he said. "I mean, what are the odds of his killing someone who stumbled onto his activities who happens to work for an underground organisation who helps the same kind of women he victimizes and then having us happen along to investigate?"

Terry shrugged. "That's my point exactly. It's too big a coincidence for it not to mean something. Besides, my gut is telling me there's something to it, and since I've been given the green light to follow my reasoning - and in the time-honoured tradition of interdepartmental co-operation to call in your help - I'm doing so."

Still not totally convinced, but with nothing further to say, Martin sat back, his gaze sliding from Jack to Terry and then back. The two older men were so unlike each other physically it was almost humorous - one fair, tall, and lanky, the other dark, shorter and compact. Even the way they dressed seemed to be polar opposite - Jack in his formal black and white, Terry in his tweed suit jackets, coloured shirts and bold ties... They had a number of things in common, however - including an unshakeable faith in their intuition and a presence that made you hyper-aware of what they said and did. When the two of them were in the room, it was hard to know whom to look at, and when they were in agreement, they were a force to be contended with.

Silently, he watched the two of them confer. He felt relief that there was official approval for what they were doing - something told him these two men would have been sitting here and saying the same things even without it.

Interrupting Martin's private observations, Danny commented, "So we're getting closer already. All we need from him is a mistake. It will draw attention maybe to another coincidence, or a piece of evidence overlooked or underplayed."

Martin smiled, his eyes growing cold. Almost under his breath, he said, "Wait long enough and they all make a mistake."

"The problem is the number of people who lose their lives while we wait for the mistake to be made." Jack said. "It was only a bunch of coincidences-"

"-And your deciding to make some enquiries-" Terry interrupted.

"-And my asking some questions," Jack agreed, "that drew attention to Georgina's death as a connection. Otherwise, Terry would still be out there looking for one, and Georgina's death would have been considered something unfortunate, random, and inexplicable. It's just luck we're hunting a serial killer."

"Luck?" Vivian asked, one brow raised.

Terry smiled. "You know what he means. Better to be looking for one man than a dozen."

Thinking of the monster they were searching for, Vivian replied skeptically, "If you say so."

"One thing we need to investigate is who Georgina was meeting. They may have witnessed what happened. We believe the person, whomever it was, saw what happened to Georgina and escaped - a purse was found in an alley nearby with identification. Evidence points that Georgina's body was dragged in the opposite direction."

"So we've got a very scared woman out there somewhere," Samantha said softly.

Terry nodded.

-XXX-

As Terry and his team continued to discuss the case, Jack sat back and watched, pleased with how smoothly they had accepted this new challenge. Instead of showing resentment at having work thrown at them after a long, hard slog of weeks without a break, they sat alert, already deep into thinking possibilities and angles. A change in voice tone made him pay closer attention to the conversation...

"I don't suppose we'll be able to claim lieu time for this?" Martin quipped.

Terry raised an amused eyebrow and looked at Jack. "Jack?"

Jack laughed. "Martin, you've already got enough saved up to take a slow boat to China and back. Surely you're not looking for more?"

Martin grinned back. "Never hurts to try." Looking sideways at Danny he said, "Besides, Danny here can always use it to hunt down more conquests."

Vivian smiled. "What a guy. Always looking out for your friends."

Danny reached over and slapped Martin on the back. "I appreciate it, amigo."

"Then maybe you won't mind letting Danny have first dibs at the files Jack's got with him," Terry said, smoothly bringing them back to the task at hand.

Shoving the pile of folders into the centre of the table, Jack told them, "The blue files contain what we know so far about each woman who has disappeared that fits our killer's victim profile.The one on top is on the woman who has most recently disappeared in Houston. The Houston police are looking after the case for now. We may take our own look later. The other files are concerning the murdered women. Spend a while familiarising yourselves with who they were. When you're finished, we'll meet to examine links or coincidences and come up with ideas as to what questions still haven't been asked or answered. That's where we'll start our investigation - knowing that we're going to have to re-visit a number of people we interviewed while investigating Georgina's disappearance as well." He looked over at Samantha. "Those missing files in Georgina's house are looking more and more important."

Samantha nodded. Reaching for a file folder, she said,. "Just remember I want to be there when you go back to ask Victoria about them again."

Jack nodded, glad for the excuse to have her along.

Only Terry noticed Martin's frown.

-XXX-

Hours later, Terry sat back and looked with amusement at the people around the table. He'd lost count of the pots of coffee they'd drunk, and the remains of their takeout dinner were still evident. The day's sunlight had long left the windows and been replaced by the glow of interior lighting and the reflections of those still at work inside.

"I think we should call it a day," he said, as Vivian looked at the clock. "We've learned all we're going to learn from the files, so tomorrow we'll start with the leg work."

There were no murmurs of dissent.

"Victoria Newbury's first on my list," Jack said.

Terry smiled inwardly. "Do you think we have an excuse to do that?"

"Of course we do. We are, after all, looking into the disappearances of several young women whom Georgina may have had contact with. Those missing files are important, and we have evidence that Victoria was in the room and her fingerprints were on the filing cabinet. That's not conclusive evidence she tampered with the files herself, but it's certainly enough to make a case for a return visit to question her if she objects to seeing us again."

Jack turned to Vivian. "Vivian, I'd like you to take a deeper look into Georgina's and Victoria's pasts. Go back to their childhoods. See what's there and what connects to their lives now."

Turning to look at Danny and Martin, he continued, "And unless all hell breaks loose on us again, I'd like you two to visit Stephano Rossi. Be pleasant. Let him know we're wondering what he was doing at Blackwell's after Georgina's murder. Let him think we know more than we do about his connection to her."

"You think he had something to do with her death?" Danny asked.

Jack shook his head. "Damned if I know, but I doubt it. I don't think he's the type, and he's known her for years - both before and after her transformation into a respected upperclass young matron."

Danny shot him a questioning look, so Jack explained, "I saw a newspaper picture of Georgina, her husband, and Stephano sitting at the same table at a charity event. The caption mentioned their going to high school together," he said, grateful that scanning through the social pages of a large number of old newspapers had paid off with that little nugget of information. "He may, however, know something that will give us a clue as to what got Georgina killed. I'm wondering if he knows something about the underground racket she had going. He'd be the perfect source for getting the new IDs she used."

Terry smiled at Jack's deduction. "Why would he do that for her?" he asked. "He's into extortion, or something, for the Mafia, isn't he?"

Jack nodded. "That's the rumour, yeah. But he visited Jeff Blackwell the day after Georgina's disappearance. That makes me curious. To our knowledge, it's the only contact the two men have had outside that charity thing. I'd like to know what that visit was about. Blackwell didn't seem interested in telling us much about anything, and we didn't have the opportunity to interview Rossi because Georgina's body was found and the case turned over to NYPD before we had the opportunity to. Maybe Rossi will be more forthcoming with us and our enquiries."

"You have no legal grounds for questioning him."

Jack shrugged. "I think we do. Maybe the husband's a suspect and I want to know why Stephano was visiting a suspect the day after a murder."

"But Blackwell's alibi is rock solid, and the murder investigation is in the hands of the NYPD."

"Does Rossi know that?"

Terry shook his head, but refrained from saying anything in front of the team.

Understanding Terry's reservations, Jack said, "Terry, if Rossi can't tell us anything, he can't tell us anything, but my instincts are screaming that there's something there and that he's linked somehow. There's certainly no harm in trying. If he refuses to talk to us, I'll look around for just cause. I know we've got it, I'll just have to come up with it."

Terry couldn't argue with that. "If we all know what we're doing tomorrow, then, why don't we head home?"

There was a general rustle as people began to clear the table and organise their part of the chaos scattered over it. While they did that, Terry asked Jack, "Janice got back today, didn't she?"

Jack nodded.

"Think she'll feel like going for a drink somewhere?"

His friend shrugged. "Probably. You know what a nighthawk she is."

"Should we go to her hotel and surprise her, or give her fair warning of our arrival?"

Jack paused, then reluctantly provided information he would rather not have given in front of the team. In a quiet undertone, he said, "She's not at the hotel. She's staying at my place, now."

The sound of falling papers made Terry look over at Samantha. Watching as she covered her shock at what she'd overheard by picking up the scattered contents of the file she'd dropped, he tried to cover his own surprise with nonchalance. Wanting very much to ask just what, exactly, had transpired between the two since he had last been in town, he said instead, "Oh. I didn't know. Then maybe I shouldn't bother. I just thought we could have a drink and find out what the hell she's been up to lately."

Not wanting his friend to get the wrong idea, Jack said, "No, come over. She'd love to see you."

He sounded like a husband, asking a buddy over after work.

Terry examined Jack closely, trying to figure out what was going on. Slowly he nodded. "Okay, then. Anything you want me to do to help get you out the door? Rising to follow Jack, he felt Samantha's eyes follow them.

He wondered what she was feeling.

End  
Chapter 14


	15. Chapter 15

Hey there!

This will be the last installment for a while - life is about to get busy for a while, and I won't have the chance to sit at a computer. Thanks to those who let me know you've read what I write - I appreciate the reviews! Sun Walker- thanks for the comments at YTDAW. They made my day - it's nice to know people are reading my old stories! (I've always wondered if that happens, or if people just read what's up on the first page of ffnet and then never look back!)

As always, thanks to Diane for the beta-ing. Changes have been made since she saw this last, so any errors are my fault, not hers.

And now...when we last met, Jack, Terry and the team discussed the case. Afterwards, Jack dropped the bombshell news that Janice had moved in with himNow Terry and Jack are on their way to Jack's place...**  
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**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

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**Chapter 15**

As soon as they were in the car and on their way to Jack's place, Terry leaned back in his seat and asked casually, "So - what's the story on Janice moving in with you? Is there something you need to tell me?"

The nonchalant tone didn't fool Jack. He refrained from comment, however, and replied in a mild tone, "No, nothing that I can think of." Tossing a look his friend's way, he took pity and added, "But if you need to know, she's staying in the girls' room."

Feeling a relief he wouldn't have admitted, Terry grunted. "What made her decide to leave the hotel? She want to keep an eye on you?"

"No," Jack lied. Deciding to give him the 'official' version of why she'd moved in, he said, "Her editor got concerned about the expense of a hotel when she told him she wouldn't be finished here until about Christmas. When he started getting 'testy', as she put it, she decided to look for cheaper accommodation as a peace offering." He shrugged. "You can't get cheaper than Hotel Malone."

"Sounds like a good setup for both of you. You could use the company. She probably likes having someone around, too. Plus, I'll bet she dusts more often than you do."

Jack grunted. "Except for this morning, I haven't been home since she moved in. And Janice doesn't do dust any more than she cooks. She did offer to have someone come in once a week in lieu of paying rent, though. I agreed."

Terry grinned. "So your place will be spotless when we get there! Good boy."

"Don't get too excited. I can't even remember if she found someone or not. I didn't pay much attention to anything this morning - I was in too much of a hurry to get back to work." Slowing the car down for a red light, he said, "Having someone living there has been nice, though. And it came in handy, too," he admitted. "She kept me in clean clothes for the past few weeks, kept me updated on phone messages, brought in my mail, and tried, occasionally, to remind me that there was an outside world."

"Sort of like a wife without the fringe benefits," Terry commented.

His comment was greeted with silence, then Jack warned in a quiet voice, "Don't go there, Terry. We've all been friends too long for that."

Terry nodded. His voice sober, he said, "Sorry. I always envied you that kind of friendship. I don't understand it, though."

Jack grimaced. "Now you're fishing. Janice told you her side of the story a long time ago - she told me she did. Now you want mine, to see if they check out, is that it?"

Terry grinned. "That would be telling."

Jack was blunt. "We've slept together. Years ago. Before I even met you. We discovered that that isn't what we're about. We're friends. We both need what we are to each other without the sex. I can't explain it." He hesitated, then admitted, "There's a sexual component to our friendship, I suppose - maybe there always is, in male/female friendships. But we decided it was better for us without it. It certainly makes things less complicated." Knowing it needed to be said, he added, "I would like to see her finally happy, though. She hasn't had much luck in the men department."

When it was obvious Jack wasn't going to add more to what he'd already said, Terry asked, "Change topic?"

"Change topic," Jack agreed.

There was a long moment's silence, then Terry looked over at Jack and drawled, "Well, they certainly make a cute couple."

Jack groaned inwardly. With Terry, it was always out of the frying pan and into the fire. Knowing exactly the couple he was referring to, he made his response quick and to the point.

"Don't start."

Terry chuckled, and confidently ignored the warning. "Well, they do. Young, successful, good looking...what's wrong with that? They're like Ken and Barbie! It's a match made in heaven, isn't it?"

Jack responded with silence.

Unfazed, Terry said, "She doesn't seem all that enamoured, though. And he didn't look all that happy today, either."

Jack sighed heavily. "Terry, you sat at a table with them for a few hours and talked about missing people and murdered women. Even with your peculiar powers of observation and intuition, that's not enough time to evaluate their relationship - especially since they were at work and hardly likely to express their undying love for one another in front of everyone. No one is supposed to know, remember?"

Terry raised an eyebrow. "No one was supposed to know about you and Samantha, either, but it took me, oh, what...five minutes to figure it out?"

"Maybe she and Martin are better at keeping their personal lives private."

"You think so?"

"I hope so."

"Why? So you don't have to see it?"

Exasperated, Jack asked, "Terry, do we really have to talk about this?"

His tall tormenter nodded. "I think so."

"You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

Terry smiled. "I've heard it rumoured, yes, but I'm happy to say it hasn't slowed me down. Besides," he said, shifting so he could look more directly at the man driving, "I don't get the feeling there's been any real closure on your relationship with Samantha." In fact, it had seemed to hover in the air between them like a huge pterodactyl, unacknowledged but unmistakable, creating a huge shadow over everything they said to one another, every gesture they made.

"There was closure," Jack assured him. "She helped me pack my office when I thought I was leaving. I apologised for hurting her. We said goodbye."

Terry's eyes brightened. "She helped you pack, eh? She's been seeing Dr. Harris, then. She always recommends that. Good for Samantha for following through on the 'steps towards getting over it'." He made finger quotes as he said the words.

Jack frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Lisa always recommends helping the person you don't want to see leave pack up. It's supposed to give both parties closure, and bring acceptance of the relationship's end." He waved a casual hand in the air. "It's a text book solution."

Jack grunted. Obviously, he hadn't read the book. "Lovely. So I guess you're happy now?"

Terry shook his head. "Nope. She helped you pack, but you didn't leave. That kinda ruins the whole gesture. It's kinda like closing the door but it not latching and the wind blowing it back open."

Jack winced. "Spare me the bad analogies. And although I didn't leave, she did. She's with Martin now and apparently very happy, thank you very much. Now leave it be."

"No can do," Terry answered blithely. "You think she's happy? That's not what I saw. Maybe you can explain why you think it's working so well. Help me understand."

"If I do, will you leave me alone?" It was a faint hope, but a hope nonetheless.

"Maybe."

Jack sighed again. Sometimes Terry liked talking far too much. "Look - they suit each other - the age is right, they're both attractive, active people, both career orientated, honest, dedicated and hard working. Sam's had a hard time of it, on and off, all her life. Martin gives her stability and the attention she deserves. I think he really cares for her - I told you that before - he's had a crush on her right from day one."

"Did she notice him from day one?"

Jack shook his head, glad to be talking about someone else, even if it was Martin. "Not at first, I don't think. I think she saw him as kind of a younger brother, or something. She seemed to think he was gauche and amusing." He made an impatient gesture with one hand. "What difference does it make? They're making it work, and that's a good thing for both of them."

Though Terry privately wasn't so sure they were either 'making it work' or good for one another, he merely observed, "But not so good for you."

Jack shot him a look to kill. "My God, you sound like-" He stopped abruptly, then exclaimed, "Janice put you up to this, didn't she?"

"Maybe," Terry admitted. "We're worried about you. She was afraid if she tried to push the matter, you would think she was prying."

"And I'm supposed to think you're not?"

Terry grinned. "I think that was her plan."

"Maybe you ought to have thought the plan through a little better."

Jack didn't bother to ask when they'd had the time to dissect his life.Gritting his teeth, he smoothly pulled into a parking place near his home. Turning off the engine of the car, he said, "Look, things are as they are. The whole affair was a mistake from the get go. That much is obvious. It was wrong, plain and simple. Now she's with someone who cares for her and who can look out for her. Yeah, I'm not quite over her, but I will be, given time." He put his hand on the door handle. "That's my bit of honesty for the evening. I don't want to hear any more about this tonight. We're adults and this is real life. We get through it - without talking it to death! God, if we don't stop having these conversations, I swear we're going to start growing breasts and craving chocolate."

Terry grinned at Jack's discomfort. "We'd make damned ugly women," he opined. "Sort of like the Odd Couple, gone bad." Understanding Jack had reached his limit, though, he said, "So you don't want to talk about this any more, huh? As long as you know there's still an issue here, I guess I can live with that."

"Good to hear it," Jack retorted.

That said, he got out the car and slammed the door shut.

Terry sat a moment, thinking. Jack had said he hadn't gotten over Samantha. What he didn't seem to realise was that Samantha hadn't gotten over him, either - and that Martin was getting impatient. He sighed, wondering when a good time to point that out would be. Getting out of the car and locking the door before closing it, he watched Jack's retreating back.

Now obviously wasn't.

-XXX-

Jack opened the door of his home and shrugged off the suit coat that had felt comfortable to wear for the first time in weeks. The last heat wave of summer was over and temperatures had finally dropped to something more seasonable.

Turning, he opened his mouth to let Janice know he was home and had brought company. Instead of speaking, he stopped and stared. Moving to let Terry enter into the hallway, his eyes remained fixed on his livingroom.

"Hey, this is nice," Terry said as he stepped past Jack and moved further into the room. "I was kinda wondering how you were living. You're not doing so bad for yourself. Maybe your true calling is in interior design," he commented.

At that moment, Janice emerged from the kitchen. Smiling, she walked towards the two men. "I wondered when you'd come creeping home," she said to Jack. After kissing his cheek in greeting, she passed him one of the glasses of wine she held. Smiling up at Terry, she proffered him the glass she held in her other hand. Stretching up on her toes, she kissed his cheek, too. "I was at the window and saw you two walking down the street. I figured I'd give you the 'domestic bliss' welcome. How are you, Terry?"

"I'm fine, Janice. How are you?"

She grinned. "Better now that I've got company - though I hope you two don't hope to be fed; I haven't had time to stock the ice box since I got back."

"You've had time to do a few other things," Jack said, finally regaining his voice. "We need to talk to about that." Looking around, he couldn't believe the transformation. This morning, he'd seen she'd done a few things, but had been too distracted by getting to work to really take it in. Now, with new table lamps glowing softly and flowers in not one, but two vases, the full effect of her efforts showed to perfection. And how had he not noticed the California blinds!

Janice shrugged. "I hung up a few of your pictures and bought a couple of lamps. The throw pillows were on sale in this wonderful little shop I found in D.C., and the candle holders were on the same table, so it seemed silly not to buy them, too." Following his gaze towards the windows, she indicated them with a wave of her hand and explained, "Since you weren't here to consult with about fabrics and colour, I settled on those for the windows. I had them put in last week. If you don't like them, we'll think of something else." Seeing his expression, she widened her eyes and said, "I have to repay you somehow for letting me stay here."

"I thought we agreed that the cleaning woman was enough."

With the two men following her towards the sitting area, she sat down at one end of the sofa and tucked one leg beneath her comfortably. Leaning over to pick up her wine glass from the coffee table, she said, "No, _you_ agreed that it was enough. I never did. I don't mind giving my editor a break, but I'm not going to give him a free ride!" She paused and tried to look repentant. "I'm sorry that you weren't here to discuss things with," she apologised.

"Right. As though you didn't see me almost every day, except when you were in D.C.," Jack grumbled. He knew he was defeated before even starting the war. And she knew damned well he wasn't going to undo a single thing she'd done. Looking around, he had to admit he liked what he saw. She'd managed to make it look comfortable and lived in and had still kept it plain and simple, the way he liked things.

"I kept forgetting to mention it," she said, smiling and taking a sip of her wine. "My memory isn't what it was." Placing her drink down, she untucked her leg and sat forward onto the edge of her seat. Looking at him expectantly, and in a voice that said she meant business, she said, "There is one thing we have to discuss immediately, though, before I forget it, too." Taking a deep breath, she launched into her explanation. Speakign quickly, she said, "I'm going to need you and your team in a couple weeks, on the evening of October 17th, I believe. There's a big charity gala taking place - a dinner dance sort of thing. To go, you either have to 'buy' a table for eight, or be invited by someone who has already bought a table.I didn't know anyone who could invite me, so I bought a table. My editor is paying for it. It'll be a nice tax deduction for the paper. I was told at first they were sold out, but I dropped a few names and bullied them into admiting they could let me have one table. Thank God, because this is the only way I'll have of meeting a couple of the people I want to talk to. It's a formal event, so a tux or long dress will be required, but I'm told it's absolutely fun to attend. Your people won't mind going, will they? I don't know eight other people in New York right now, and I know there's a chance some of you will be busy, but I'm hoping not, because this would really be doing me an incredible favour if you could all help me out on this one. It would be awful to have to sit at that table all by myself."

Trying to assimilate the rush of words, Jack just looked at her while she paused to catch her breath. His first thought was that sitting at the table alone would serve her right. His second was that when Janice talked fast and furious, she was up to something. Instantly on guard, he said cautiously, "Janice, I just got home. Slow down. Let me get this straight. You've made arrangements for not only me but my entire team to attend some high society charity dinner-"

"-And dance -" she interjected.

"And dance," he added obediently, "without consulting us first? I don't own a tux, and I don't go to those sorts of functions. Except for Martin, I doubt any of us do."

"I know you don't, but it'll be fun, like playing dressup. You can rent a tux. I'll take care of that. And I'll be there to make it bearable, right? We'll have a great time. They're playing big band music. That's why I chose this particular event. You know how we enjoy dancing to that. Please," she said, putting on her best pleading look, "just this once."

Jack looked over at Terry.

Terry raised his hands in mock surrender. "Don't look at me, I'll be back in Los Angeles by then. This is your problem, not mine. You just need to excuse me while I take a moment to conjure up a mental image of you dressed in a tux and dancing to big band music." He looked at Janice and chuckled. "You gotta take pictures!"

Knowing he was defeated again, Jack bit his tongue and gave Terry a look meant to sear his soul.

Souless, Terry grinned back.

Jack caved. "In order to avoid more harassment, I'll say yes for myself, but I can't say yes for the others. You'll have to ask them yourself."

"They'll simply love the idea," she said happily.

_And God help them if they don't_, Terry thought with amusement._ They'd all just have to learn to adjust._ Looking at Jack, his grin broadened. This was going to work like a charm. Winking at Janice, he asked, "So, if that matter's settled, tell me what you were up to in D.C."

Quickly returning his wink, Janice smiled and turned her attention to the man sitting on the sofa beside her. "I had a marvelous time, thank you, though some people are so bloody minded about schedules and things I thought I'd go mad..."

A couple hours later, Jack rose and said his goodnights. He was reluctant to leave, knowing he would likely become the topic of conversation once they thought he was safely out of sight. Falling asleep in the room with them would only delay the inevitable, though. Like it or not, he knew they were determined to dissect his life. He sighed in resignation. He was going to have to put up with it until they got it out of their systems.

"Terry, you can take my car back to the hotel, if you want, and pick me up on the way in tomorrow morning. I'm going to bed."

His two friends wished him a good sleep and turned happily back to their conversation.

-XXX-

The next morning, Jack was up early but not so early as Janice. Seeing him as he emerged from his bedroom, she smiled at him as she walked towards her room. "The coffee's ready. Do you still eat next to nothing in the morning? I've got English muffins, but not much else."

Jack nodded. "English muffins are fine, as long as I have coffee to wash them down with."

Entering the kitchen, he saw three mugs placed on the table. He stopped, surprised. Not sure what he felt about what he was thinking, he paused a moment more. Knowing the answer before the question left his lips, he called over his shoulder, "Terry coming for breakfast?"

Janice's voice trailed back to him from the bathroom, where she was putting on the day's earrings. "Yes. He should be here soon. He said last night to have coffee ready by 7:00. I think he's slowly figuring out that's about the limit of my culinary skill."

Feeling an element of relief that his initial suspicions hadn't been correct, Jack smiled. There was something brewing besides the coffee, but he was glad it wasn't brewing too quickly. Terry had gone through a very bad time when his marriage ended, and had been skittish about anything close to a relationship since. It pleased him to think that something might develop between his two best friends. Almost as much as it scared him. He knew better than to comment, however. For all their propensity for delving into his personal life, their lives were tender enough that he needed to stay back and merely observe for the time being. If it was meant to be, it would be, he thought. He'd need to talk to Janice about her latest thoughts on Chad, or Charles, or whatever his name was, though.

Hearing the doorbell ring, he made no move to get it. He heard Janice moving quickly through the livingroom to answer it.

Jack's smile broadened.

End  
Chapter 15.


	16. Chapter 16

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Thanks to everyone who has been kind enough to write comments on this story. They're appreciated and treasured.

Diane: heaven knows what I've changed since you saw this last, but hopefully I made clean edits! Your beta skills are without parallel. To both Dinae and Justine, thanks for the push to post this chapter.

Now for some butt kicking of my own...Sarah's writing a WaT fic! Yay! I will be patient and let you get more written, but I will only be patient for a while...And Eloise...WHEN are you going to update your unfinished story! And I believe KATERINA owes us a little something, doesn't she? There is also a certain New Zealander, who owes us LOTS of updates. And there are more, and you know who you are... GET BUSY. GET POSTING! And thanks for the enjoyment your writing brings.

As for this story...it's been a long time, but I think when I left you last, Terry and Jack had an interesting conversation in the car about Jack's new living arrangements. Janice is back and asking a favour not only of Jack, but the rest of team, as well. And it appears that there may be something brewing between Janice and Terry, though Jack is too considerate to comment. We open as the two men arrive at work the next morning, preparing to track down more information about the case... Hope you enjoy...

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**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

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**Chapter 16**

Terry and Jack arrived just in time for the 8:30 a.m. meeting with the team. Having gone over the day's assignments, Samantha and Jack had left to speak with Victoria Newbury, and Danny and Martin had left in search of Stephano Rossi. They all hoped to return shortly after lunchtime.

Left alone at the conference table with Vivian, Terry said, "Guess we're left to hold the fort."

"Until you head out to talk to the NYPD again," she reminded him.

"I haven't forgotten," he told her. He regarded her quietly, his expression serious.

She'd known him for too long not to know what was coming. Looking at him with a certain amount of resignation, she asked, "You want to talk about it, don't you?"

He nodded.

She settled back in her chair and regarded him with dark eyes. "There's not much to say. You win some, you lose some."

Losing her position when Jack returned had hurt, but, all things considered, may have been for the best. She was almost resigned to that fact now.

Almost.

"Is that how you see it? Losing?"

She thought a moment, then shook her head reluctantly. "No, not really, I guess. It was never a contest. It's just...disappointing. It was my dream job."

"You'll have the opportunity again."

"Yeah, but it won't be the same."

"May be better," he said, holding her gaze.

"Yeah."

Her tone was low, her voice doubtful. He didn't think she quite believed it yet.

"He didn't plan it to happen the way it did," he said quietly.

"I know. His life just got messed up and in turn, messed up mine."

"Permanently?"

She hesitated, knowing what he was really asking. "No," she said, shaking her head. "Life happens, and we go back too far. He did things..." She shook her head again. "He's a good man, I know that. He just..." She raised a hand and let it drop. "He likes things neat, predictable, and tidy, and none of what happened with Samantha or Maria was. I told you before - when he met Samantha, he didn't know what hit him. I think he stopped thinking for a while. He was happy, but it was wrong on so many levels...And even after breaking it off..." She shrugged. "You saw what they were like. He thought he had it all straightened out, that by doing the right thing, everything would work out okay. Maria leaving him and taking the girls..." Shaking her head, she said, "Now, that threw him. He and I will be okay, though.." She smiled wryly. "Like I said, we go back too far to be anything but."

He nodded, relieved. Looking at her more carefully, he said, "But there's something else, isn't there?"

She moved uncomfortably. "Terry, stop it."

His mouth quirked up on one side. "I can't help it, it's my nature." He continued to look at her, his expression turning to one of puzzlement. "There's something else going on with you that doesn't have anything to do with work. Is everything okay at home?"

The thought of her son and husband made her smile broadly. Her white teeth flashing, she said, "Of course."

He could see she was telling the truth - so far as she was telling it. Still, there was something not right. She was covering something. With Vivian, however, there was no point in pushing.

"You know I'm here if you want to talk."

Vivan regarded him fondly. "I know. That's what friends are for, right?"

He nodded. There was a temptation to ask her about how Jack was acting these days, and if his situation was affecting the others, but he refrained. He'd been having a lot to say about Jack's personal life, and knew there were limits. If Jack heard he was making inquiries, he'd have his head on a platter. Friends pried, but they also knew when to put down the crowbar.

Sighing, he rose. "I guess it's time to go."

Vivian nodded and also rose. "Yeah. Time to take a look at Georgina's past. I have a feeling it's going to be an interesting one."

Terry regarded her seriously. "I really am sorry, Vivian. You'd have done a great job."

"Yeah, I would have," she agreed. Inhaling deeply, she let it out in a rush and smiled at him. "And now I'm going to do a great job investigating people's pasts. Let's go get our jobs done, shall we?"

Terry nodded. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he said, "Maybe we can do lunch, if NYPD doesn't take too long?"

She grinned. "You bet, so long as you pay."

He slapped his hand over his heart. "I'm wounded. You think I'd let a fair damsel pay for her meal?"

She laughed. "You know you would! Now go. We have work to do."

She was still smiling when the elevator doors hid Terry's lanky form from view.

-XXX-

Settling into the passenger seat of Jack's car, Samantha looked at him happily. "I'm glad we're finally going to talk to her again. Victoria Newbury knows a lot more than she was willing to tell us. She's probably involved in the organisation as much as Georgina was, just in a different way."

Jack turned out into traffic, then glanced at her. She had obviously given this some thought. "Oh? How so?"

"I figure Georgina did the field work. Victoria did the desk stuff - organising places to stay, overseeing who went where and who got channeled to whom."

Jack smiled. "You've got it all figured out. Any idea as to _why_ they were doing this?"

Samantha shook her head. "No, but I think Vivian will have that figured out by the time we get back."

"You sound pretty confident."

Samantha smiled. "I feel confident."

Indeed, she positively glowed. Yet another reminder that the choice to move on had been the right one for her. He clenched his jaw. Not approaching her, not doing anything to indicate he still cared, was the right thing to do. Trying to reestablish their old relationship would cause nothing but embarrassment on both their parts.

Unaware of Jack's thoughts, Samantha settled back into her seat, cherishing the happy excitement she felt at spending a morning with him.

-XXX-

Ushered into Victoria Newbury's large office, the two agents sat down once again in the large, comfortable leather chairs placed in front of her desk.

"This is a surprise, Agent Malone," Victoria said as she seated herself. "I thought the investigation had been turned over to the NYPD."

She looked cool and professional, her strawberry blonde hair coiffed to perfection, her dark suit appropriately accessorised with a large pin Samantha suspected was comprised of real diamonds. Her eyes, she noted, were still shadowed, however, and there was a hollowness below her cheekbones she had not noticed before. Here, she thought sadly, was a woman who truly grieved the loss of her sister.

Samantha surprised Jack by speaking first.

"We're sorry to have to intrude on you again. We're hoping, however, that you can help us," she said. "We've had new information come to light that leads us to believe you have information we need."

Victoria looked at the blonde woman seated across from her with a mixture of wariness and reserve.  
She glanced at Jack. "I'm not sure I understand. I think I've told you everything I can."

Trusting Samantha's judgement in taking the lead, Jack said nothing.

Drawing the older woman's attention back to herself, Samantha began her explanation. "During our investigation, we learned that Georgina was active in a group that helped women get away from abusive relationships. She helped provide them with new identities, helped them find work, and settle into a new life in a new city where it was safe for them." She glanced over at Jack. "The missing files we mentioned when we were here last - they held information about that, didn't they?"

Her inflection at the end of the question made it sound like a statement.

Victoria looked troubled. The two agents waited with bated breath as she took time to think. "I'm not sure I can help you," she finally said. "I know she worked at a women's shelter, if that's what you mean. If she kept files, I wasn't aware of it."

"Mrs. Newbury," Samantha said in a gentle tone. "It was more than that, and there are a number of women whose lives depend upon our knowing what you know. Georgina's death shed important light on a series of murders the FBI has been following. The victims all had something to do, we believe, with the underground railroad your sister participated in. If you could help us, we might be able to find not only the murderer of those women, but the murderer of your sister as well."

Victoria looked at Samantha, a mixture of hope and distrust in her eyes.

"You're saying there are leads in my sister's case?"

"Our only lead at the moment is the connection your sister had to these women through her activities with the underground group. We believe she was meeting someone arriving in the city the day she was killed. There is evidence to indicate that the woman she was meeting saw what happened and fled. We would like to find that woman, if possible. At the very least, we would like to look at the files removed from Georgina's home in order to see if there are any links between the information in them and what we know already. If you can help us, it would mean a lot."

Samantha stopped talking and regarded the woman silently.

Again, Victoria took time to think before speaking. Her decision obviously made, she straightened her shoulders. "I don't have those files presently, but I can get them. Would it be possible to meet you later today, perhaps shortly before dinnertime? It will take a bit of time, and I'll need to contact..." She allowed her voice to trail off, obviously not wanting to say too much.

Samantha nodded. "We can meet again later. And we appreciate your help. I promise we won't do anything to jeopardize what Georgina's group was doing." She paused, then added softly, "And you may be able to give us information of your own. You are involved as well, aren't you?"

Victoria smiled briefly. "You have a habit of making statements out of your questions, Agent Spade. It's very disconcerting. I'll have to think about it. I don't know if anything I know will be helpful or not."

Samantha glanced at Jack. A flicker of his eye told her he had nothing to add. "Then I think we'll be going," she said. Pausing, she added, "Your sister was doing something many wouldn't or couldn't. I'm sorry she died as she did."

Victoria nodded. "Thank you." Inhaling deeply, she asked, "Would you like to meet here, or is there somewhere else more convenient?"

"Here would be fine," Jack said, "Unless there's somewhere else you'd prefer?"

Rising, Victoria shook her head. "Here is fine. Shall we say around five p.m.?"

Samantha rose and reached across the woman's desk. Shaking her hand, she said, "That would be perfect. Thank you. You won't regret this."

Jack lifted an arm to indicate the door, and she preceded him out of the office, her knees trembling.

Walking to the car, she said, "I don't know why that was so difficult."

"You handled it beautifully. I'm not sure she would have read my sincerity as clearly as she read yours."

She nodded. "She's hurting a lot. You look at her and you think she's living a life that's too good to be true - she's rich, beautiful, seems to be a good person, and has everything going for her, just like her sister did. But none of it is really important, is it? Not when you've lost someone you love."

Jack nodded sadly.

-XXX-

It had taken a while for Martin and Danny to locate Stephano Rossi. They finally found him in a coffee shop several blocks from his home address, casually talking over small cups of espresso with a group of men. Approaching him, Danny said, "Mr. Rossi, we're wondering if we could speak to you for a few moments."

Rossi looked at him curiously, then nodded and rose. Waving his hand towards a table near the back of the establishment, he said, "Is there okay?"

When Danny nodded, Stephano led the two men to the table he'd indicated.

Once they were seated, Stephano said, "Thanks for not showing your badges. It'd probably only be confirmation of what everyone here already knows, but it was a nice touch."

Danny smiled, knowing he'd gained points.

"We're here to ask you a few questions," he said.

Stephano flashed a set of perfect teeth. "I figured as much. About what?"

"The question is about whom," Danny replied. "You know Georgina Blackwell was murdered several weeks ago. We're wondering if you could tell us how you knew her."

Danny could have sworn a look of sorrow flashed in the man's eyes before he said, "Why? Am I under suspicion?"

"No, not at all. We're hoping, however, that you might know of some connection that might shed light onto why she was killed."

"You don't think it was a matter of her being in the wrong place at the wrong time? That's what the NYPD boys thought. Why should the feds think differently?"

Danny raised an eyebrow. "So you know we're FBI."

Stephano nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "You dress better."

Danny grinned. "Thank you." Liking the man in spite of himself, his smiled faded as he said, "In answer to your question, no, we don't believe her murder was a random act. Georgina was helping women on the run from abusive relationships settle in New York. We believe she was meeting someone the afternoon she was killed. That person is likely still alive, and we'd like to speak with them. Do you know anything about what she was doing?"

Stephano regarded him carefully. He was a handsome man, with southern Italian features and unusual, misty-green eyes. His wavy, dark hair showed the beginnings of grey at his temples. Dressed in a spotless white shirt with the sleeves turned up to just below his elbows, and dark pants that were perfectly creased, he sat comfortably, showing no signs of unease in the two men's presence. Though shorter in height, he reminded Danny of Georgina's husband, Gregory Blackwell.

And in spite of what he was suspected of, he showed every bit as much confidence.

As though reading his thoughts, Stephano said, "I'd expect you guys to want to talk to me about a lot of things, but Georgina's death and her activities leading to it wouldn't have been among them."

"So you admit she was involved?"

"Yes. If you're here, you know that already. I don't know how much I can help you, though. I wasn't familiar with the operation, just that she was involved."

"So you weren't the one supplying her with the IDs?" Martin asked.

Stephano looked at Martin directly for the first time. "Ah, so he can speak!" he commented dryly. His demeanor changing, he said, "Even if I were the one who supplied the IDs - which of course I am not, since that would be a highly illegal - it wouldn't put me in a position to know anything that might help you. Don't organisations like that shroud themselves in secrecy?" His eyes hardened and the look of lazy amusement disappeared. "I'd love to see the son-of-a-bitch who killed Gina get caught, though. I don't think the NYPD holds a prayer of finding him. They all but told me not to expect too much." There was an unmistakable bitterness in his voice.

Silently noting Rossi's use of a diminutive of Georgina's name, Danny said, "I think you can expect a lot, Mr. Rossi." Deciding to give the man more information than he had originally intended, he continued, "We're following a series of murders. We believe Georgina was killed because she accidentally met a killer we are searching for. We believe she came into contact with him when meeting someone newly arrived to the city. We suspect when she arrived, someone else was also there - someone who planned to do what he has done to roughly a dozen other women - abduct them, rape them, then mutilate and kill them."

"God..." Stephano muttered.

Danny nodded. "Not pretty, is it?"

Trying to recover from his shock, Stephano resorted to a flippant, "Nice to know you people do more than just harass us innocent citizens."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "We just do that for amusement when we're bored. We work, on occasion, too."

Stephano grunted, the shock of what Danny had just told him showing nowhere but in his eyes. Thinking a moment, he said carefully, "I'll have to think about this. You understand that not a lot of people involved in an underground know each other - I've heard that these things are pretty secretive. Like I said, though, I'd like to see the guy who did this get what he deserves." Reluctantly, he admitted, "I've asked around, but I'm not getting much information."

Seeing the look in the man's eyes, Danny had no doubt he had. And knew he wouldn't have liked to see the remains of the guy if Rossi had gotten his hands on him.

"So you're saying you need a little time?" he asked.

Rossi nodded. "Yeah. Not a lot. I just have to check around, you know? See what I can find out for you. Obviously," he said, raising both hands, "I know very little myself."

"Of course," Danny agreed. Rising, he put out his hand. In it was his card. "You'll call me?"

Stephano took the proffered card. "I'll call you sometime later this afternoon."

With a farewell thanks, Danny turned and left. Martin followed a few paces behind.

Once outside the cafe, Martin snorted. "He's so full of shit his eyes should be brown," he said in a disgusted tone.

Danny regarded him with surprise at the outburst - and at the language. Amused, he said, "Hey, careful. Remember the brown-eyed boy you're talking to."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do. I liked him, though."

Martin grunted. "I don't see why. Take a look at what he does for a living."

Danny shrugged. Maybe he was just more used to the concept of honour among thieves. Whatever the case, he recognised in Stephano something strong and honest. He was counting on that to get the information he needed. Aloud, he said, "I don't know for sure what he does, and at the moment, I don't care. He'll do what he can to help us. I think he's still protecting the underground, though. I'm beginning to think he's more involved in it than we originally realised."

Martin looked at him in disbelief. "Yeah, right. It's a stretch just to believe a Mafioso rich guy would risk his neck by providing fake IDs to poor women in the first place. More involved I can't imagine."

"I think he could be useful to them in a number of ways. You didn't know he owns a maid service, did you?" Danny asked.

"So?"

"What if he hires newcomers, to help them out? Who else would help get them a start here?" The idea had just occurred to him, but it certainly fit.

Martin stopped dead in his tracks. "You're crazy. People like him don't do things like that. It doesn't make sense."

Danny shook his head and began to move forward again. "Few things in life do, my friend. Have faith, and you sometimes find good in unexpected places."

End  
Chapter 16


	17. Chapter 17

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Here's the next chapter. Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews of the last chapter. Rozzy, yours especially filled me with happiness - as the mother of two teenaged daughters myself, I can understand your pleasure in sitting down to immerse yourself in something a little easier to deal with! Every word in your review hit home, because what you described is exactly what I look for when I am reading and what I hope people feel when they read what I write.

To everyone, with thanks...

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

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**Chapter 17**

Arriving back at the Bureau, Jack and Samantha found Vivian working at her desk.

"Terry not back yet?" he asked.

"He's been gone, come back for an early lunch, and then gone again," Vivian said, swivelling her chair to face her boss.. "He told me to tell you he'll be back around four or five. And before I forget: Janice called you. She needs a favour, and wants to know if you're busy this evening."

"Did she say what the favour was?"

When Vivian shook her head no, visions of Janice deciding on something new for his apartment made him ask, "She say where I can reach her?"

Vivian reached for a pile of notes and sifted through them. Selecting one, she passed it to him.

Reading the numbers, Jack nodded. "Thanks. I'd better see to this before Danny and Martin get back."

Turning, he walked towards his office.

Samantha followed him with her eyes. His quick response to Janice's phone call, she thought, said a lot. Knowing that he and Janice were a couple and that their relationship had steamrollered into a 'living arrangement' had thrown her more than she'd thought possible. She longed to know more, but knew she was no more likely to ask him anything than he was to ask her about Martin.

Vivian noticed Samantha watching Jack and commented, "He seems different these days."

Samantha nodded. With what seemed like an effort, she tore her eyes away and turned them to meet Vivian's. "He doesn't say much, though."

_He can't, to you, _Vivian thought. Aloud, she said, "Talking isn't always his strong point."

Samantha couldn't argue that. She had always known that there were things he didn't discuss; there were, after all, things she didn't talk about, either. Because it had been a mutual situation, she had been comfortable with it.

Perhaps they should have talked more.

Sighing, she tried to set aside the longing she felt. It was all in the past now. For better or worse, they had gone their separate ways - she with Martin and now, apparently, Jack with Janice. She hardly had grounds to complain or criticize.

Vivian felt saddened as she watched emotions flit across the younger woman's features. She truly believed that the way things were now was for the best, but had to admit no one seemed very happy. Remembering her harsh words towards Jack about his treatment of Samantha, she knew she'd been right to say them, but wondered, considering what she was seeing now between Samantha and Jack, if perhaps she had not known all the facts of their relationship and its demise...

Inhaling deeply, she asked, "Did you eat before coming back?"

Samantha shook her head.

It was, Vivian thought, a sign of the times.

"Then why don't you go grab something, and then come back and lend me a hand? I've come up with some pretty interesting information!"

Shaking herself from her thoughts, Samantha saw the controlled excitement in the older woman's eyes and smiled. "Sounds good. I'll be right back!"

-XXX-

When Danny and Martin returned about an hour later, Jack was still in his office. Not all the past sixty minutes had been spent talking with Janice - a good part of it had been spent wondering how she had talked him into what she'd just talked him into.

_"Ask Terry!" he'd told her._

_"I did. He can't. This is the first time I've asked you to do something like this," she said, "and it would really get me out of a jamb. It's only for a few hours," she said in her best wheedling voice, "Surely you can spare that?"_

_He could, and honesty and friendship made him admit, "Yes, as things stand now, I can. But I'm not going to like it. And if we're making points here, this isn't the first time - if I remember correctly, I and my whole team are expected to 'help you out' in a couple weeks."_

_She laughed, relieved he was able, if not terribly willing. "How could I have forgotten! But don't worry, love - you're going to have almost as good a time tonight as you will in October!" she promised. "I'll take care of everything - you just be ready to get changed by 7:00. I'll bring everything there, okay?"_

_He mentally calculated how long it would take to clear everyone out for the night, and said, "Make it 7:15."_

_Knowing the best tactic with Jack was to leave while you were ahead, she agreed and hung up._

"We found him," Danny said.

Shaken from his thoughts, Jack looked up to see Danny casually leaning against his office's door frame.

"Martin with you?" he asked.

When Danny nodded the affirmative, he said, "Then let's sit down with everyone and compare notes. Let the others know."

After Samantha filled everyone in on their conversation with Victoria Newbury, and Martin and Danny recapped their visit with Stephano Rossi, Jack said, "So we're all waiting, then."

Martin rested his forearm on the table in front of him and said, "Since they're so tied into this together, I'd lay money that Stephano and Victoria are having a conversation with each other right now. They both obviously needed to speak to someone before they talked to us again. Maybe they're consulting with each other."

Jack nodded, "You may be right. It'll be interesting to see how their stories connect when we speak with them again." Seeing a restless movement out of the corner of his eye, he turned to Vivian and smiled. "Okay, you've been quiet, but you look like the cat that swallowed the cream. Find anything of interest?"

Both Vivian and Samantha had been listening attentively, but it was apparent that there was something else on their minds. By the look on Vivian's face, he'd saved the best for last.

Vivian grinned. "Hold on to your seat. I can't believe what I came up with this morning. I remembered your mentioning that Georgina and Stephano knew each other in high school, so I started my research there. They more than knew each other; apparently, they were quite an item for a couple of years. Everyone thought they'd marry for sure. Then, when Georgina was in Grade Twelve, they broke up - quite abruptly." She paused and looked around the room, obviously enjoying the next piece of information she was about to deliver.

"The breakup occurred shortly after Georgina and Victoria's father was murdered," she said.

Jack frowned. "Her father was murdered? How did we not know that? The report I read said her parents were deceased, but that's all."

"The report you read is recent, and if it's the same one I read, it didn't deal much with the two women's pasts. Most people don't know about her father. Think about it: neither Victoria nor Georgina associate with the people they grew up with, and the circle they're in now...well, it wouldn't be something either of them would bring up over cocktails."

Here, Samantha piped up. "Vivian thought it was odd that it wasn't mentioned in newspaper articles. When I spoke with the reporter at the Gazette who covered the murder at the time, I asked why there was never mention made of it. He said there were two reasons as far as he knew: one, was that the two women are quite liked by the press, and considering the good they do, it would be churlish to bring up something that would cause them distress, and two, their husbands are influential enough they could make lives extremely difficult if their wives were caused distress by something they brought up."

Looking at her notes, Vivian continued, "And there's more. They also have a stepmother, who is still living."

"Stepmother?"

Vivian nodded. "Yeah. These people are just full of surprises. It's quite a history they have. When they were about ten, their mother died. It was a suspicious death, but nothing concrete was ever proved. I had a look at the post mortem report. If you ask me, I'd say she was an abused wife. The coroner had his suspicions, too, but nothing could be proven."

Jack's eyebrows rose. "You looked at her post mortem?"

She shrugged. "I got interested. They faxed it over." The excitement in her eyes belied her nonchalant manner.

Jack smiled at the enjoyment Vivian was getting out of her research results. The M.E. didn't just 'fax over' information like that. She'd have had to do some pretty good talking. He wondered what strings she'd pulled. Deciding to question her methods at a later date, he said, "Okay, so you've got our attention. What else did you find out?"

"The stepmother was Filipino, and the two girls apparently doted on her."

Jack sat back in his chair. "Yet we've never heard of her existence."

Vivian shrugged. "I'm sure Victoria Newbury would say that the topic never arose and wasn't relevant, anyways. According to a neighbour, the stepmother returned to the Philippines shortly after her husband's death. I did some checking around, and it looks like both Georgina and Victoria have visited her regularly over the past fifteen years or so."

Danny gave a low whistle. "They've been quiet about it"

Vivian nodded. "When it comes to their past, they're quiet people."

Returning to the topic of the father's death, Jack asked, "Was the murderer caught?"

Vivian shook her head. "No. And no motive was ever found. He was discovered in his backyard with his head beaten in. The shovel he'd been hit with was lying nearby. No prints, no witnesses, no motive, no nothing."

Intrigued, Martin said, "You say they don't have anything to do with any of the people who knew them when they were younger. What about Stephano?"

"He's the exception. According to a neighbour, it's probably because he's come up in the world, too, and travels in the same circles."

"A neighbour's your font of information?" Jack asked.

Vivian nodded. "She was a gold mine, believe me. She seems to have thought a lot of the two girls - they babysat for her occasionally, and I think she acted as a kind of surrogate mother until their father remarried a couple years after his wife's death. She watched them grow up. She liked Stephano, and commented that no one could understand what happened between him and Georgina. According to her, they seemed perfect for one another. She blamed the stress of Georgina's father's death on the breakup."

Jack nodded, trying to assimilate all the information. "So far, we've got two women with rich, prominent husbands whose mother died suspiciously and whose father was murdered. We've discovered a Filipina stepmother who's back in the Philippines and never spoken of, and an ex-boyfriend who's suspected of being in the Mob, but who apparently is also helping them secure new identities for the women they're protecting. What else have you got?"

Vivian looked at him in mock disbelief. "You want more?"

His lips curved upwards. "Always."

Vivian shook her head and smiled. "Some people are never happy. I'm afraid until I talk to a few more people, that's it. But I figure it's enough to add some interesting colour to things."

Jack grinned inwardly. Vivian: goddess of the understatement.

"So how does this fit in with the murdered Filipino women?" asked Danny.

"I've no idea," Jack said. "Maybe one of us will learn something this afternoon, when we talk to Rossi and Victoria again." The circle, he thought, was definitely tightening. Wait 'til Terry heard. He'd love it.

"Vivian, that was beautiful work."

She nodded, pleased with herself and what she'd learned. "I'll work a couple more hours on this, then head home, if that's all right," she told him. "I've got a couple things I want to do with the family tonight."

Again, Jack smiled at her. "Not a problem," he said, pleased that that was one down and just three more to get out of the building before 7:15.

-XXX-

Jack and Samantha were just getting ready to leave for their appointment with Victoria when Terry returned. Turning to Vivian, Jack said, "Before you head home, could you fill him in on what you learned today?"

When Vivian nodded, he and Samantha headed for the elevator.

As the elevator made its way downward, Jack looked at his watch. "I'd like to be back by 7, if we can. You can head straight home from Victoria Newbury's office, if you like."

Samantha looked at him curiously.

"You have something planned for this evening?"

She couldn't interpret the look that flashed across his features before he answered smoothly, "Yeah."

She waited expectantly for more, but nothing more came. They finished the ride to the main floor in silence.

-XXX-

Ushered into Victoria Newbury's office by Victoria herself, Samantha and Jack were surprised by the unexpected presence of Stephano Rossi.

Recognising him from his pictures, Jack spoke first. "Mr. Rossi," he said in greeting.

Stephano rose from a chair that had been placed to the left of Victoria's desk and stepped forward. "You must be Agent Malone," he said, extending his hand. When the two men finished shaking hands, Victoria completed the introductions by introducing Samantha. Once that was done, Stephano told Jack, "I phoned Agent Taylor a few moments ago to let him know I'm meeting with you here. I know he was expecting my call."

Jack's estimation of the man in front of him rose. Rossi's considerate phone call meant that if Danny and Martin were not waiting for a phone call, they might be long gone by the time he got back to the office.

Setting personal issues aside, Jack moved forward as Victoria indicated he and Samantha should again take the seats they had occupied a few hours before.

"I have the files you requested," Victoria told them. "We have decided to be as open with you as we can. We ask one thing of you, however." Glancing at Stephano, she continued, "and that is that you keep everything you can - including our involvement - out of any official documents, if possible."

Jack frowned. Samantha looked at him silently, her eyes urging him to agree. She had immediately understood the reasons for their wanting not to go 'public', and hoped that Jack would understand, too.

Stephano, seeing the silent exchange, pressed forward with his case. "Mr. Malone, you know that what we do for these women is important. If you want to be dramatic, you could even say lifesaving. We provide a very necessary service, and do nothing that the women wouldn't do themselves if they had the knowledge and the financial resources. It's not law enforcement's fault that it can't protect all women from their abusers. We help in a way the police and other social services cannot. We can't continue if it is advertised that 'this' is what we are doing, and that 'this' is how we are doing it."

Jack remained silent a moment. Glancing at Samantha before he spoke, he finally said, "I understand that if your involvement were made public, the network would most likely shut down. I'm willing to do what I can to protect your activities, but if push comes to shove, I can give no promise your names won't come up in my reports."

Samantha eyes widened at what Jack had just agreed to. Relaxing tension she hadn't realised she'd held, she sat back in her chair, loving him all over again for being a man who was willing to do what was right, even if it wasn't the 'right' thing to do.

Stephano looked at Jack a long moment, then proved he was a man who did his homework by nodding slowly. "I have been told you're a man who can work outside the box," he said. "Thank you for the consideration, at least."

Looking at Victoria, he said, "So where do you want to start, Victoria?"

Victoria looked at the two agents. "Perhaps where our guests want us to?"

"First, we'd like to know how you got started doing what you're doing," Jack said. He was certain it was rooted in their youth, and he wanted to know her version of the story.

Stephano surprised them by quickly speaking first. "That's an unexpected question - certainly not one we'd considered discussing. Surely it's more important that I can tell you about the woman Georgina planned to meet the night she was killed, and where you can get information about her in Houston," he said in a helpful tone.

Jack shook his head. "I want to know how it got started. Then you can tell me the details of recent events."

Still Stephano hesitated. Finally, he said, "Then you must ask Victoria. That would be her story, not mine."

End

Chapter 17


	18. Chapter 18

Okay, I'm taking a deep breath because I'm not sure this is ready to be posted, but I'm posting it anyways. The reviews have been wonderful - thank you for making the writing of this so much fun! Diane: as always, thanks for the beta work!**  
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**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

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**Chapter 18**

Martin walked into the bullpen area. Glancing at the clock, he then looked over at Vivian. "You want some help?" he asked. "Danny got a call from Rossi, and he's meeting Jack and Samantha at Victoria Newbury's office. I don't know exactly what that means, but it frees us up, if you need us."

"Did anyone call Jack to let him know?" she asked.

"Danny tried, but he got the answering service."

"Then he must be in her office building already," Vivian said, knowing Jack often turned off his phone if he didn't want a discussion interrupted.

Martin nodded. "So," he repeated, "do you want some help?"

Vivian shook her head. "I've just about done all I can do tonight. This," she said, a wave of her hand indicating the pile of papers on her desk, "I can finish myself - I'm in no hurry to leave, now. Marcus called and said he and Reggie are going to meet me here." She smiled, "We're catching a movie tonight, and then going for pizza."

"Ah, a family night out."

She nodded. "It's been a while."

Martin could understand her desire to see her family while she had the chance. There was no knowing when they'd get another case and be working for eighteen-hour stretches at a time again. In fact, he could even identify with her - he'd missed spending free time with Samantha during their last three-week stretch.

One of the side effects of that time, however, had been the opportunity to look at his relationship with her more dispassionately...

What he had seen had left him disquieted. And uncertain. When Jack had first reappeared on the scene, he had felt no insecurity - he and Samantha were together, and she had not been 'with' Jack for a long time. He'd felt the field open, Samantha's heart free, and his timing right. Her initial response to him had appeared to confirm those thoughts. The longer Jack was on the scene, however, the less he felt that way. He had tried to raise the subject with her, but she had always shied away, saying she wasn't ready to analyse anything, that they should just go with the flow, and enjoy what they had. More and more, he thought neither he nor she were enjoying much of anything. He wanted stability and commitment and acknowledgement of their relationship. She had insisted on secrecy and leaving things to sort themselves out.

He sighed. If Stephano were also at the meeting, the anticipated one-hour-or-less discussion might turn into something much longer. That, in turn, might mean more time spent here going over things at the office afterwards.

With Jack.

She would look forward to that. She always did. She thought she covered her preference for working with him well, but he saw it.

A shot of jealousy and resentment ran through him Wanting to run from his thoughts, and not having the avenue of work open to him, he turned as Danny walked in.

He thought quickly. When he'd asked Samantha if he'd see her later, she'd promised to call him as soon as she was finished. If he were lucky, it would be soon, they would spend an evening together, and he would be able to set aside some of his doubts. Until then, it would be good to have company.

"Viv doesn't need our help," he told his friend. "Want to call it a day and head out for a quick beer?"

Danny grinned, knowing Martin wanted to kill time until Samantha got home.

"Sure," he said. "Why not? I could do with a good, strong glass of club soda just about now."

Decision made, the two agents cleared their desks and left with one last farewell to Vivian.

-XXX-

Victoria Newbury sat frozen, her indecision about whether to open up her past or not stamped clearly on her features.

Samantha, also surprised by Jack's line of questioning, sat back and listened with interest.

"This is difficult. It started a long time ago..."

"And involves your stepmother?" Jack asked.

She looked at him in surprise. "You know."

Jack nodded. "Of her existence, yes. It's not hard to find out, if you're looking."

She nodded. "I know. Georgina and I have done a good job of putting our childhoods behind us, though. We stopped expecting anyone to look, I guess. What is past is past, and doesn't have much bearing on what we do today."

Jack silently disagreed. It coloured everything she and her sister had done, everything they had become. He waited without speaking, however, for her to continue.

"I have to go farther back than her introduction into our lives for it to make sense," she said. "You know our mother died when we were young." She paused again, obviously choosing her words with care. "What isn't known is that our father frequently beat her. Growing up, we thought that was just the way disputes between married couples were handled. But it was disturbing, and Georgina and I spent a lot of time hiding in our room, waiting for our father to stop knocking our mother around. She never complained, never said anything about it to anyone, but we knew what he was doing, and we knew he hurt her. One day, we came home to find out that she had 'slipped' on the basement stairs and broken her neck. Our father claimed that he had been in the livingroom when he heard a noise. He told the police he had found her at the foot of the basement steps. He said she was doing laundry down there."

She looked at the two agents. "We never thought for a moment that was the truth. Our mother would never have been going to the basement to do laundry the way he'd said. She was very precise about what she did on what day, and would never have done the washing on a day our father was home. He wouldn't have allowed it."

Samantha frowned. Seeing the younger woman's expression, Victoria explained, "On his day off, my father expected to be the centre of my mother's attention. She had to be nearby, in order to fetch him things, and if she were in the basement, she'd have been too far away to respond to him quickly enough." She shook her head. "There's no way she would have dared..."

Samantha tried to control her features. Though she had heard such stories more times than she could count, they still distressed her, bringing up childhood memories she still fought to suppress.

Forcing himself not to look at Samantha, whom he knew would be affected by what was being said, Jack continued, "But you didn't tell the police?"

Victoria shook her head. "I was twelve, Georgina was 10. We knew better than to contradict anything our father said."

"So you've spent all these years believing that your father killed your mother?"

She nodded.

"Not something children should have to live with."

Victoria frowned. "It was the situation that led to her death that shouldn't have been lived with. My mother had two daughters, had never worked outside the home, and likely thought there was nothing she could do about what our father did to her. There certainly wasn't any place she could have run to and been safe."

"But there's more," Jack prodded.

"There's more," Victoria agreed. "Two years after our mother died, our father answered an ad in a magazine and ended up bringing home a wife he got from the Philippines. We didn't know what to think or what to do. It was a relief, though," she admitted, "to have her there because it took so much pressure off us. Our father only slapped us around a little, when he was particularly angry, but we knew that as we grew older the discipline would become harsher. With Amanda there, his focus turned to her. The relief lasted for only until we came to know and like her. Then we began to fear for her."

"Amanda became his punching bag."

She nodded. "As I said, our relief turned to something else. We were older and understood more - and had lived with a neighbour enough after our mother's death to know that the way my father treated my mother wasn't normal. Neither was the way he treated our stepmother. We were filled with horror. And fear."

"And felt helpless."

She nodded. "At one point, when he'd wrenched Amanda's arm out of its socket and she'd had to go to the hospital, we told her that we wanted to tell the police. She made us promise not to, saying she would be sent back to the Philippines, and to go back penniless would sentence her to far worse than whatever our father handed out to her. We were young. We didn't know any better, so we remained quiet."

She glanced at Stephano who sat listening quietly, then returned her gaze to the two agents. "Things continued on for a few years. Then one day we came home to find that Amanda was at the hospital. She'd fallen and broken her arm. On our father's day off. Georgina said something, I don't really remember what: something like, 'just like momma' or something, and our father went ballistic. He grabbed her and smacked her across the face, hard, then gave her a shove that made her fall. She had bruises that lasted for a long time. She certainly didn't mention our mother's death in his presence again."

"And you don't think that perhaps your sister settled the issue with a shovel?"

Victoria winced at the blunt way Jack chose to introduce the topic of her father's death. "So you know about that, too. No, I don't think she did. She wouldn't have dared. We may have been grateful in many ways that he was dead, but you have to understand how scared we were. We wouldn't have even dared entertain the idea of trying to cross him. Our lives were as they were, and we saw no way out until we were old enough to leave the house for good. He was simply too powerful."

_But not too powerful for someone,_ Jack thought.

Victoria took a deep breath and expelled it swiftly. "So, to make a long story short, after his death, Georgina and I both managed to work our way through college and marry well. We were reasonably happy, and our past seemed far behind us. Then our stepmother called us from the Philippines and wanted us to help a friend's daughter who had come to America as a mail bride." She shook her head sadly. "The chances women take..." Pulling her thoughts together, she continued, "We found her, saw the abusive situation she was in, and managed to set her up in Houston."

"And that's how it all started? You continued to help women move away, or move here, depending upon where they were?"

Victoria nodded. "Georgina knew someone in Houston who had set up a women's shelter after graduating from college; that's why we chose that city. Eventually, that person had someone she needed to get out of Houston. We helped get her settled here. Things grew from there. There has been a surprising number of women use our help."

"How many?" Jack asked.

Victoria shrugged. "Perhaps twelve a year. Not always, but sometimes that many."

"Altogether, going both ways?"

She nodded. "There's a prostitution ring that brings dozens of women into the New York area every year. The women are brought in from all over the world. They're very vulnerable. It's not run by nice people, and the conditions the women are forced to work in..." she shook her head. "We've also seen a growth in the number of women brought in to marry complete strangers who think that because their wives aren't American they can treat them any way they want to. And then, of course, there are the women who come here on visitor's visas and stay illegally, get involved with the wrong type of man and who don't know how to get out of the situation without having to be sent back. I'm not saying that none of these women find what they hope for, of course. But there are those who discover that the types of men who order their brides from a catalogue, or who prey on foreign women who need help, can be dangerous types to become involved with. Then on top of that, of course, there are our own, home-grown women who are victims."

She paused, gathering her thoughts and resumed, saying, "So, as I said, after we helped that first woman, we recognised a need. It grew from there. We aren't a large group, but we have contact people in critical places." She eyed him sharply before adding, "Whom we need to protect."

Jack nodded. Satisfied for now with the background of what they were doing, Jack said, "We need to look at the names of the women you've dealt with and compare them with the identities of a number of women who have been found murdered or who have gone missing." He didn't yet want to propose that someone within her organisation was responsible for the deaths they were investigating.

Victoria rose and went over to her credenza. On it were two boxes. Lifting one, she turned and said, "Everything is here."

"We'd like to take those with us, if we may," Jack said as a formality.

Victoria nodded. Moving so that Stephano could fetch the other box, she said, "I would like them back, please."

-XXX-

"Didn't she notice that a number of the women they were helping ended up dead?" exclaimed Samantha as they placed the boxes in the trunk of Jack's car.

"It's a question we'll ask, but not yet. I want her to feel comfortable with what she's told us."

She eyed him closely. "So you think she may be linked to the murders?"

He shook his head. "No. But there's something she's not telling us yet. Something critical. I just don't know what it is or how it fits in. It may have nothing to do with the murders at all, but it's still something that's critical to her and that she wants kept secret."

Samantha smiled to herself. Jack loved discovering secrets that explained why people were the way they were.

Aloud, she said, "My guess is it has something to do with Stephano. It doesn't make sense that he'd leap to do Georgina's bidding."

"No?"

"No. She dumped him. Why would he want to help her out after all these years?"

Jack wanted to say the word love. Guilt - though he knew of no reason for it - could have been another word he could have tossed into the mix. Looking at the woman he doubted he'd ever get out of his system, he refrained from mentioning either. Instead, he said, "I can take these back to the office, if you'd like to go home from here."

Samantha shook her head. She knew he was trying to get rid of her, but she didn't care. She wanted to get started on the files.

And maybe find out what the hell he had planned for the evening.

"No, that's all right. I left my purse in my desk, and I may get a head start on these files, just so I know what to expect in the morning."

Jack knew better than to press.

-XXX-

Much to his dismay, Jack arrived back at the office not only with Samantha in tow, but to find Vivian still ensconced at her desk.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as he deposited one of the boxes Victoria had given him on the conference table.

"I'm waiting. Marcus and Reggie are coming to pick me up. Saves me having to go all the way home and then come back this way again."

Jack nodded. "When do you expect them?"

"Around 7:30." she said.

Jack's heart sank. Resolving to deal with what had to be dealt with, he gave up trying to live a discreet life and opened the box he had brought in. Samantha stood on the opposite side of the table and did likewise.

He looked up at her. "I thought you were going home."

"I said I wanted to have a quick look at these first," she reminded him. "I don't have anything planned, so I might as well."

Saying that, she remembered she needed to call Martin. Discreetly checking to make sure she had her cell phone, she left for the ladies' room to quietly make the call.

Giving up all hope of no one witnessing his departure later on, Jack sat down with a pile of folders. Seeing that everything was organised according to dates, he opened the earliest one. Quickly leafing through it, he saw that it contained the usual facts - name, address, etc., a history of the presenting reason the woman needed to be moved, her background, and photocopies of what Jack expected were the woman's forged documents. Also included were what he assumed were code names for people helping the woman leave the old location and those helping her when she arrived at her new destination.

Settling back, he began to read the file more closely.

When Samantha returned ten minutes later, she found Vivian working quietly at her desk. Jack was no longer at the bull pen table. Looking around, she saw that he had gone into his office. Shrugging, she sat down and opened a file.

Twenty minutes later, a flurry of activity marked Janice's arrival. She carried a suit bag, but that wasn't what made the two women in the bullpen sit up and take notice.

Janice was dressed to the nines and looked drop dead gorgeous. And drop dead wealthy. Evaluating the woman's casual elegance with a certain amount of envy, Vivian wondered what kind of money it had taken to buy her evening dress. Cut to just above Janice's trim ankles, it fit her beautifully and slid over her petite figure as though made just for her. Perhaps, she thought ruefully, it had been. And even at a distance, it was obvious that the cascade of gold and diamonds at her neck were worth more than anyone in the room earned in a year. Watching as the dark-haired woman stopped to continue a conversation with someone she had shared the elevator up with, she wondered how she could look and act as though there was nothing about the way she was dressed that was out of the ordinary for an FBI office. She looked as at ease in her finery as Vivian felt in her pants and shirt.

Vivian's eyes travelled to where Jack sat in his office. He had some mighty interesting women in his past if Janice was any example of them. That thought led her naturally to think of Samantha. Turning her gaze towards her younger counterpart, she watched Samantha silently regard the other woman. Her heart sank. Biting back the urge to say something, she sighed and turned her gaze back towards the elevators. Some things just had to play out the way they were meant to play out. Samantha would have to get over it. Jack would have to move on. Janice might be the unexpected answer to both their problems.

The two women regarded Janice silently as the conversation with the man she had met on the elevator drew to a close and she turned to stride purposefully towards Jack's office. Standing in the open doorway, they heard her say, "Jack. Time to get ready. We've only about half an hour before we should be there. Your tuxedo awaits," she said, holding the suit bag out in front of her. "And don't say a word about wearing it! Consider it a dress rehearsal for the October event, if you must." She stepped back and indicated herself with a grin. "Besides, I've gone to a lot of work to look this good. It's only fair you put forth an effort, too!"

He rose from his desk and walked towards her. Taking the suit bag from her ourstretched hand, he looked at it doubtfully and moved to step past her. "What if it doesn't fit?"

"It will," she said confidently. "I've been sizing men for formal wear for too many years not to know exactly what to get!"

Yards away, Samantha turned her gaze away, for fear that they would become aware of her scrutiny. The older woman, she thought, looked striking, and she didn't care for her possessive manner with Jack - though, given the circumstances, she supposed it was only natural. The suit bag Janice had held out to him meant they were going somewhere. Somewhere formal, if that dress was any indication. She wasn't certain if she saw romance in the way they looked at each other, but then, she wasn't sure what that would look like in a public place. Jack had always been very private, after all. Demonstrations of affection were something he generally saved for when he was away from work.

She, of all people, knew that.

While Jack headed in the direction of the men's room with his suitbag in hand, Samantha pretended to read the file in front of her. Several minutes later, she jumped slightly when Janice's accented voice asked her, "Working late? I thought Jack said nothing came up today." She chuckled. "Good thing, too. I'd have killed him if I'd had to go to this thing alone."

Surprised that Janice would seek her out for conversation, Samantha turned and put on her best friendly face.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm doing a series on fundraising for my paper. Tonight, we're going to an event in support of African Relief. It's dinner, followed by a concert. The dinner should be excellent, and I'll amuse myself by keeping Jack awake during the concert." She shrugged and grinned. "It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it."

While they spoke, the two women eyed each other closely.

Janice wasn't totally sure what it was Jack found so attractive about Samantha. She was beautiful, yes, and there was an air of vulnerability that she supposed might appeal to him. Looking at the shadows under her eyes and the files on the desk in front of her, she suspected there was a dedicated, caring heart, too. Still, for Jack to have lost his family over someone who had casually moved on to someone else in the office...it just didn't sit well with her. And Jack holding onto his feelings in spite of the woman's apparently fickle emotions disconcerted her.

And made her very annoyed.

With them both.

Samantha wasn't certain what to think about the woman standing in front of her. She didn't know what Janice knew abour her relationship with Jack, but considering the way Janice was regarding her, she strongly suspected she knew more than she needed to. Getting the definite feeling that she was being evaluated and found somewhat wanting, Samantha tilted her chin upward.

"How long do you plan to be in New York?" she asked boldly.

Janice shrugged slim shoulders. "I'm not certain. Christmas, probably. As long as I like, I suppose."

"Your husband doesn't mind your being away so long?"

A flicker in the older woman's eye told Samantha her emphasis on the word 'husband' had hit home. Whether it was because of Jack, or whether it was because of something else, she wasn't sure, but her money was on 'because of Jack'. It was quite a situation they'd set up for themselves, and she wondered where it was going and how serious it was. At the very least, Janice was having a piece on the side while here. Samantha wondered how Jack felt about being the 'other man'.

Vivian, sitting at her desk, listened to the conversation with interest. The verbal sparring - for that was how she interpreted the exchange - was interesting. She thought maybe she felt sorry for Samantha. Janice had all the confidence expected from someone of her breeding and experience. Samantha, though confident and accomplished, did not appear as prepared to do battle as the older woman.

She paused at her choice of words. 'Battle'... was that what she was seeing?

And if so, why was Samantha holding back?

All thoughts stopped when Jack reappeared, freshly shaven and dressed in his tux. Holding his suit in the bag that had previously held the tuxedo he now wore, he walked to the edge of the bullpen area.

"Let's go."

"Jack," Janice exclaimed, "I didn't know you had it in you. You look smashing!" She turned to Samantha. "Don't you think so?"

Both Jack and Janice turned their eyes towards Samantha. Feeling pinned, she said the first thing she thought of.

"To die for," she said feebly. She had always been attracted by his looks, but in the tuxedo, he made her knees weak. It gave him an air of relaxed sophistication that she was unused to seeing...and a smouldering sexuality that made her almost blush. He looked good. He looked very good. He looked the the kind of good you wanted to wrap your arms around...

...the kind of good you hoped would take you home to bed with them.

Unaware of the undercurrent between the two women and of Samantha's response to his appearance, Jack smiled at her. "Hmmm...," he said, "and if you died, would that be considered murder? I believe there's someone who'd never forgive me if that happened."

Samantha schooled her features at his roundabout mention of Martin. Not understanding that by mentioning him, Jack was trying to set her at ease, she saw his words as a barb.

Janice looked up at Jack and moved to join him. Laughing, she said, "See? I knew you'd look fantastic. I'm going to have to keep my eye on you all evening, or some hungry woman is going to steal you away!"

He eyed her. "Not funny, Janice. Doing this is bad enough - don't joke."

"I'm sorry," she apologised with a grin. "You do look very handsome, though. But we will make a fine couple tonight. You look very handsome."

She smiled up at him, knowing the kind of picture they must have presented to Samantha. She turned. "He says he hates this," she said, "but he likes looking good just as much as the rest of the male population!"

"Janice-"

There was no doubting the sound of warning in his voice.

Not wanting to be witness to more of their banter, Samantha rose quickly and said, "I should be going."

Jack frowned at her sudden change in demeanor, then relaxed his features. Of course she would be eager to spend extra time with Martin. He remembered with a pang of regret when he and Samantha had hurried to finish their work...

"Good idea. It's the first early night we've had in a while," he said.

She nodded, avoiding his eyes. Walking over to her desk, she reached into a drawer and pulled out her handbag and keys. Turning to look at him, she said, "Have a good night, then."

He nodded, his eyes cloudy with something she couldn't decipher.

"You, too," he said.

As she walked past him, she caught the scent of his aftershave.

She didn't recognise it.

Janice had no doubt had a hand in that, as well.

Vivian, who had witnessed everything but remained the proverbial fly on the wall, sat back thoughtfully when they had all gone. She was sitting there still when her husband called up to cheerfully apologise for being late and to announce his arrival downstairs.

Making a mental note to talk to Terry soon, she gathered her things together quickly and left the finally deserted office.

End  
Chapter 18


	19. Chapter 19

Thanks to everyone who's hanging in with this story. Here's the latest contribution...!

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

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**Chapter 19**

Jack stepped out of the elevator and paused to look up at the wall clock. He was still in his tuxedo, but looked less formal now, his tie undone and hanging loosely around the open neck of his shirt. Rasping his fingers across his long-past-five five o'clock shadow, he groaned inwardly. Almost midnight. He should never have had that damned coffee with dessert. Tired as hell, but wide awake, he'd dropped Janice off at home and then, knowing sleep was still a distant possibility, had swung back to work to pick up his suit and perhaps go through a couple of files while the caffeine wore off.

A soft glow of light coming from the bullpen area alerted him to the presence of someone else on the floor. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked slowly towards the light, wondering who would be here at this hour.

He stopped when he saw who. Samantha. She sat with her back towards him, reading a file he was sure had come from the boxes they'd retrieved from Victoria Newbury's that afternoon. He remained in place, drinking in the sight of her and allowing himself a moment of melancholy over what had been lost.

It wasn't long before she sensed his presence and turned.

"Hey," she said softly, her heart beating slightly harder at the sight of him.

"Hey," he responded. Stepping closer, he asked, "What are you doing here? I thought you'd gone home." He kept his voice low, in keeping with the hour and the intimacy of the warm lighting.

She paused before answering him. She had gone to Martin's, but Martin had been moody, and when his questioning had become too bothersome, she had got up, gathered her coat, and told him good night. Not wanting to go home, she had found herself heading back to work.

That was hardly something she could tell Jack, though. Instead, she said, "I couldn't sleep, so figured I'd have a go at these for a few hours. What are you doing here? The concert's over?"

He nodded.

"Did you have a good time?"

He thought a moment, then said, "Yeah. I did."

She smiled. "I'm glad. You sound almost disappointed, though."

His mouth quirked. "Surprised might be a better word. But Janice has a way of making even painful things bearable."

That hadn't been something she needed to hear.

"And where is Janice now?" she asked. "She doesn't mind your slipping off to work at this hour?"

He shook his head. "She's at home, getting some writing done. She likes to get things down on paper while it's fresh in her mind."

She tried not to wince at how domestic he sounded.

"And what's your excuse for being here?" she asked

"Coffee."

Familiar with this particular failing of his, she grinned. He hated decaf and always played the odds that if he stuck to just one cup, maybe the caffeine wouldn't bother him too much.

He could never stick to just one cup, though.

"Serves you right," she scolded. "You know better." She smiled in spite of herself. "How many, and were they worth it?"

"Only two, and yeah, they were. They knew how to brew a perfect cup. Strong, and tasty. My theory is they make irresistable so people drink it and then can't fall asleep during the performance even if they want to."

Samantha turned her head to one side and looked at him with amused eyes. "You could be right. It obviously worked on you."

He smiled. "It did." Sobering, he glanced at the files and explained his presence. "I figured I'd pick up my suit and maybe read a couple files until I know I can sleep."

Reaching over to pick up one of the files, he asked, "Find anything interesting?"

She shrugged. Thinking of the anecdotal information she'd read that described each woman's reasons for needing assistance, she said, "It's all interesting. Sad, too. But if you're asking me if I found anything that strikes me as important, then no, I haven't. But I've only read through a couple."

Jack nodded, knowing that she would have been unable to merely glance through the files quickly in a search for cold, hard facts. She would have read each one thoroughly, so that she felt as though she knew each woman and what she had gone through intimately.

Looking over at the conference table, he said, "I might as well start reading, too, I guess." Noticing the bare whiteboard, he inclined his head towards it and suggested, "Perhaps we should set that up, so we can put information on it as we go."

Samantha nodded, glad that his suggestion indicated he would work out here with her, and not take files into his office to read.

"Have a seat, then," she said. "You can tell me what you think we need. Then I'll fill you in on what I've got so far. After that, you can read to your heart's content."

Reaching for a dry marker, she walked over to the board. "What do you want to start with?"

Moving to sit on the edge of the conference table, he crossed his arms and allowed a slight frown to mar his brow while he thought. "We know we've got thirty-one files. Write small, because I want them all up there. Make the first column numbers. We'll go through the files in order - first to last. Then we'll put the real name of the person, followed by a column for their alias."

She made the columns, and listed numbers one to thirty-one down the left hand side. Then she made the name columns and labelled them appropriately. "We'll need a column for sending and receiving contact people," she said, moving to make the required columns.

"And another for if they're missing, dead, or okay." Jack offered. He watched as she wrote, enjoying the easy way they worked together. "And the city in which they were last seen," he added, fighting the urge to go over to stand closer to her.

He wondered what she'd think if she knew how she affected him.

She turned. When her eyes met his, she hesitated, as though she saw something in them that gave her pause.

He looked away quickly. Clearing his throat, he told her, "You've read the first couple of files, so you should fill in your info while I start on the next one."

"I need to number the files so that when we're all putting information up we know where to put it," she said, trying to recover her equilibrium.

Jack nodded. "Good idea." Everything organised, he moved to a chair, sat down, and took out the next file.

When Samantha finished with the whiteboard, she moved to stand beside Jack and the box of files on the table beside him. Methodically, she numbered each one in order. She could smell his cologne and the warm maleness of him. Twice she brushed against him as she maneuvered the files in and out of their boxes. Finally finished, she sat in a chair across from him. A contented silence settled over the two as they worked.

-XXX-

It was almost two o'clock when Jack took off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I think that's it for me. Time to go home and hit the sack." Looking over at Samantha, he said, "You should go, too. Tomorrow morning is only a few hours away."

Samantha nodded. Truth be told, she'd been ready to leave about the time he'd arrived, but once he'd shown up, she had wanted nothing but to take advantage of the opportunity to spend time with him.

She was glad she had. It had felt good to be alone in the quiet with him like this, even if it had dragged up emotions and memories she should probably learn to leave alone.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she said. Setting down the file she'd been reading, she sat back. "It was a good day," she commented, still unwilling to see the end of it.

Jack reflected on the information they'd gathered, and nodded. "Yeah. The stories behind why they've been doing what they've been doing were interesting."

Samantha smiled. She'd guessed that would have been what had interested him the most. The human experiences that made people who they were intrigued the psychologist in him. Pausing, she wondered what he thought about their past together, and if he had tried to analyse that.

Setting aside the thought, she asked about the event he had attended. That led to a brief description of the other people at the table, the food, and the concert - which, he told her, had not been too terrible. -to his surprise, he had even recognised a couple of the pieces played. Finally, however, Jack rose.

"That's it. If I don't leave now, I'll turn into a pumpkin." The temptation to stay and talk to her until dawn had to be resisted.

Samantha laughed. "A very well dressed one, at least!" she said, unable to refrain from giving him another quick once-over. He'd taken his jacket off an hour ago, then removed his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves. His tie still hung loosely around his neck. Tearing her eyes away, she looked at the whiteboard and commented. "We'd better fill in the last few details before we go."

Jack nodded and they both rose and moved to stand in front of the whiteboard. Reaching for the dry marker at the same time, their hands touched and they paused, looking first down at their hands, then up into each other's eyes.

The silence in the room shrieked in their ears. Samantha looked down at her hand again. It still clung to the marker. Jack's hand encircled both.

"Jack..." she said, the name a whisper.

His face stiffened. "Sorry," he said, releasing her hand as though it burned him. Tearing his eyes away from her, he asked in a remote tone, "What was the name of the last woman's contact?"

Trembling, Samantha stepped away and turned to face the board.

She hesitated, then turned back towards him, wanting she didn't know what...

He was regarding her with dark eyes, and her heart stopped.

"Samantha?"

She lowered her head, unable to look at him again. Searching for words to answer his question about the contact, she found she could think of nothing but her reaction to his touch.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice low. Wanting desperately to step forward and lean against him, her head on his shoulder, she continued, "I must be tired...I don't remember. I'll have to go through the file again."

He continued to look at her, wondering if he dared ask, if he would be too wounded by her response. Inhaling deeply, he gathered his courage. Swiping his hand through his hair, he wondered how to phrase what he wanted to say. Finally, he asked, "What's wrong? I know-" He stopped, remembering the glimpses of unhappiness in her eyes he had sometimes caught.

"I know there's something on your mind. You haven't been yourself lately. At least not always. Is everything all right? Are you happy? If there's something worrying you..." He paused again, then raised a hand to touch her arm. "I know we're kind of in a weird place with each other because of our past, but our past also means we've shared enough that I hope you know you can talk to me."

Samantha felt ready to weep. Happy? He wondered if she were happy. She wanted to scream that of course she wasn't. How could she be? She was watching him get his life back together without her. For a second time, she was being forced to live with his walking out of her life, never to return. She felt crippled. She'd made a mess of it with both Martin and with Jack and she didn't think she could bear loving one and being with the other, but was too torn and uncertain to do anything but let life carry her along in a regret-filled current she didn't feel she had the strength to combat.

She shook her head. "Jack, I don't think this is something we should talk about...not now. I-" She stopped abruptly, then elected for honesty. Or partial honesty, at least. "It's not something I can talk about just yet. I'm trying to sort things out. Sometimes I feel as though my life is getting away form me, you know? As though I don't have any control over anything..."

He nodded, trying to understand. When he opened his mouth to respond, however, he was interrupted by the phone on her desk ringing. Watching as Samantha moved to answer it, he saw her expression change when she heard the voice on the other end of the line.

"Yeah. I'm here...No, I wasn't tired. I thought I could get a few things done here." She glanced a Jack. "Let's talk about that later, okay?" Obviously listening with impatience, she paused, then said, "It's okay. ...No, I'm on my way home, now...No, I need to get a few things there and check my mail...Yeah. I'll see you in the morning..."

Jack had nothing to say after the one-sided conversation. He was certain it had been Martin, and that he'd been calling to see that she was okay. It was good, he told himself, that someone was looking out for her. And it was probably her relationship with Martin that was causing her worry. He expected it was getting serious, and there would be the accompanying decisions to make. Knowing her as he did, he knew each decision would be a big step for her. He looked at her, saw that there was now some sense of urgency about her and, misinterpreting it, thought she was in a hurry to leave.

"You go ahead. I'll finish this up and go home." He forced a smile. "Have a good sleep."

Not knowing what to say, Samantha nodded and gathered up her purse and keys. Cursing Martin for his ill-timed phone call, she said, "I'll see you in the morning, then."

"See you then," he echoed.

She tried to read what was in his eyes, but failed. With one last look at him, she sighed and headed towards the elevator.

End  
Chapter 19


	20. Chapter 20

Hmmm...I've been told the natives are getting restless...Sorry for the delay! Darned real life - I keep tripping over it on my way to the computer! g> Please accept this as a somewhat belated Thanksgiving present! As always, thank you for the reviews and encouragement - you guys rock big time. And Diane, I thank you for the beta-ing - and acknowledge that any typos in this are mine and due to rewriting that you didn't get a chance to see! Needless to say, I made changes right up to the time I posted.

Thanks also to everyone still writing great stories. You guys are just...

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

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**Chapter 20**

The next morning, it was soon apparent that everyone had decided upon an early start. Emerging from his office for a second cup of coffee, Jack saw that even Terry had arrived, bringing with him a large box of donuts, the contents of which Danny was examining with expert efficiency.

Glancing around, he saw that in spite of the hour, only one person was missing. About to ask where Martin was, the person in question strode in from the direction of the elevators. The look of surprise and the glance at his watch when he saw everyone gathered in the bullpen was testimony to just how early it was.

Jack smiled. "Your watch is right," he said to the approaching agent. Glancing at the others, he said, "I guess we're all on the same page about this case. We might as well get started, then." Placing his mug on the table, he waited as Martin moved quickly towards an empty chair. Once he was seated, Jack began the session.

While his boss made his opening comments, Martin gave a quick nod in Samantha's direction. He had hoped to get in before everyone else and perhaps waylay her in order to talk. He had spent the past few hours feeling sorry for pushing her so hard about making their relationship public. He also regretted his display of jealousy where Jack was concerned. He wasn't sure whether or not his questions and innuendo about her relationship with their boss had struck home, but they likely had. In retropect, he knew it hadn't been fair of him: Samantha had done nothing overt to elicit such suspicions.

Sitting back, he looked around at the people gathered around the table.

Then his eyes fell upon the whiteboard.

And the two different styles of handwriting on it.

He recognised both.

He glanced over at Samantha, who sat listening to something Danny was saying to Vivian. Doubt, quickly followed by anger, filled him. His jaw tightened. While he'd been at home feeling badly about how suspeicious he'd become, she'd been here, in the office with Jack. He had no idea how they had arranged it, but they had, and he felt cheated, used, and fed up. Then he watched as Samantha smiled at something Vivian said, and hard upon the tail of those angry thoughts came the more temperate acknowledgement that the writing could have been done this morning or at different times altogether. His innate sense of fairness reminded him she'd said nothing last night about Jack being there with her.

Shooting a quick glance between Jack and Samantha, he grimaced. Not, he thought, that she'd be likely to.

Jack walked around the table, dividing the files amongst the team. "Each file has a number," he told them. "You need to put the pertinent information up next to the corresponding number on the whiteboard, so that we can look at everything in sequential order. I'm hoping a pattern will emerge once we've got them all up and accounted for."

Refusing to look at his boss, Martin opened a file and began to read.

Not recognising the change in Martin's mood, everyone else settled in to look for the coincidences that Jack and Terry were so fond of.

An hour later, all the files had been accounted for and almost all the information recorded.

A definite pattern had emerged.

"The name 'Raphael' has come up six times when a woman has gone missing or been found dead," Terry noted.

"I just found another 'Odin' and another 'John'," Martin said, rising to add the last bit of information on the board.

Terry frowned. Looking at the completed picture, he said, "I thought at first it might be just one person, moving back and forth between the two cities. Now I'm wondering if perhaps there are two people involved."

Everyone's attention became riveted on the whiteboard. Up in black and white, the pattern was obvious. Six missing or dead in New York with Raphael as their contact person. In Houston, a 'John' had been involved with 7 women who were either dead or missing.

"Working independently? What are the odds?" asked Danny.

"Maybe they're working together," suggested Terry.

"You mean sending women to each other? My God..." Jack said, his brow creased at the disturbing thought.

Samantha sat back, appalled.

"So now we find out who these guys are," Martin said.

"I think that would be the plan," Terry said, his eyes glued to the whiteboard, his mind working furiously.

His eyes still thoughtful, he said, "We'd better find the woman who witnessed Georgina's murder fast. My guess is she was the next intended victim, and I don't think whoever is doing these murders gives up easily. Whether it's one person or two people working together, the characteristics of these murders indicate that the perpetrators are meticulous and not apt to leave unfinished business. If she was a target, she will remain one until he's got her"

"So she might already be dead," Danny commented.

Jack nodded. Revising his action plan slightly, he said, "Let's not jump to conclusions. We're going to have to work a couple angles at once, here. First thing is to find the woman we believe witnessed Georgina's murder. I asked NYPD to put in an extra effort, but they've had no luck. Part of the problem was that they didn't know who they were looking for." Glancing at the whiteboard, he said, "Now, I think we can be pretty certain the woman we're looking for is the Miquella we've listed as the last person to go through the system. She was the woman Georgina was supposed to meet the night she was murdered. She's the one our murderer will be looking for, if he hasn't found her already." Turning his gaze back towards his team, he said, "With the additional information we have from the files here, I think we should take another look ourselves."

He turned to Danny. "Danny, I'd like you to have a go at it. Take a look at where Georgina was murdered and where her body was found, and ask some questions." It was a shot in the dark, but it was one worth making. He'd learned a long time ago that a second visit sometimes produced results a first visit did not, and another person asking questions in a different way often got a different answer.

Danny nodded. "I know there are some stores around where Georgina's body was dumped. Maybe a customer saw something. I'll ask if any of the employees remember anyone coming in. We might hit it lucky."

Luck being what they needed, Jack nodded. "Good," he said. "I'm going to head over to see if Victoria Newbury can give me a hand in finding out who "Raphael' and 'John' are, and if she knows where we might find them. Vivian, I'd like you to contact Houston PD and find out which of their people worked on the cases we've marked. We've got to track down the 'John' person working there.You're also the one I want to track down the women who haven't been reported missing or turned up dead, just to make sure we have our facts straight and they're all actually alive." He looked at Terry. "Can you help her?"

Terry nodded. "I need to step out for a bit, but I know a couple people I can talk to in Houston who 'll get us quick answers. That will free Vivian up, if she wants to get a start on confirming that all the others are accounted for."

A quick glance in Vivina's direction told him that she was okay with the idea. "Fine, then," Jack agreed.

Turning to Samantha and Martin, he said, "You may not like this, but for you two, there's a new case just come in."

Samantha opened her mouth to object. She wanted to go along with him when he spoke to the Newbury woman.

Before she could object, however, he told her, "It's not a red flag issue, but the last name on the file will tell you why we've been called in. Just do the interviews with the parents. I'll give you the details. It shouldn't take you long," he said. "By the time you've cleared things up, we'll hopefully have enough information to begin a real search for our killer. You'll be in on that, no problem." Turning to Martin, he added, "And it's the same for you - I need you and Samantha to finish this new thing up quickly, because I'll need you to head to Houston with Danny sometime in the next day or so. There's no way we'll find the Houston connection from here."

Partially appeased, Samantha slouched back in her seat.

Jack looked at his watch. "Okay, finish up your coffees and we'll meet back here by lunchtime. If you can't be here, call in, okay?"

While everyone was sorting out the paperwork in front of them, Janice arrived in a flurry of colour and expensive fragrance. Stopping by Jack's office doorway, she looked over to where the team was gathered, an expectant look on her face. Jack walked over to her and they spoke quietly, then approached the bullpen table together.

Smiling a greeting at everyone, Janice said, "Sorry for arriving unexpectedly, but Jack said this would be the best time to find all of you together." She smiled at Jack. "And from what I hear, I arrived just in time!" Turning her attention back to the others gathered around the table, she said, "I want to extend an invitation to all of you. I've tickets to a fundraiser and would love it if you could all go with me, as my guests. Jack has already said yes, of course, but he said he couldn't answer for the rest of you. We'd love it if you could all go."

Terry wondered if anyone noticed the 'we' she had thrown in, and sat back to enjoy people's reactions.

Surprise was the first one. Then Danny asked, "It sounds like it could be fun. When is it, and what's it about?"

Janice rewarded his enthusiasm with a smile. Terry was sure she was relieved at getting such an immediate, positive response.

"It's a benefit dinner and dance for the Children's Hospital and is being held on October 17. I'm told it's a great thing to go to as a group. We'll fill a complete table of eight, which is perfect."

It was against Danny's nature to say no to an evening with friends. "Sounds good to me," he said readily. "I'm always up for a night out."

"There are extra seats, obviously," Janice said, "so that means a couple of you can bring someone. " She looked at Vivian, "I've never met your husband. I hope he'd like to come. It's formal - tuxedos for the men - but everyone I've spoken to says it's a lot of fun."

"It's nice of you to invite us," Vivian said, liking the idea of a rare evening out with her husband. To spend it with everyone she worked with was an added pleasure. That she recognised this event as one that was considered 'not to be missed' in certain circles, made it impossible to resist. "I'll need to check with Marcus, but for now, you can put us down as a yes." She glanced around at the others. "Janice is right about it being a good time - I've read about it in the paper."

Martin quickly did the relationship math. Jack with Janice, himself with Samantha. Vivian with her husband and Danny with his woman of the hour. It would work out perfectly.

Glancing at Samantha, and expecting that she would go if he did, he said, "I'm in." He thought perhaps if she saw Jack and Janice together and happy, she might get over whatever reservations she had about their making their own relationship public.

Janice looked at the only member of the team left to respond. "You don't have to answer now, Samantha, if you're not sure what you have planned for that evening, but I really hope you can come, too," she said.

Put on the spot, Samantha nodded. "I'd love to go. Thanks." For some reason, the thought of attending something with the older woman brought out all her competitive instincts. She was already deciding she didn't have anything to wear and since it was a formal, knew she'd be spending hours searching for a dress to compete with whatever Janice might wear that night.

She looked at the gems glittering in the older woman's ears, and made another wardrobe decision. She'd forego the jewelry. She'd go without, to make a contrast to the other woman's seemingly endless supply. In areas where you can't compete, she believed, it was better not to compete at all.

She paused, then reconsidered slightly. Earrings. She had a pair of drop-dead chandelier earrings. She'd wear those.

Having some idea of the thoughts now racing around the younger woman's head, Janice smiled happily and took a step backwards. "I'm so glad." Looking at Terry, she arched an eyebrow and said, "See what a good time you're going to miss? We could fit an extra chair, if you changed your mind."

The entire group turned their eyes towards the tall, lanky man at the end of the table. Terry laughed and shook his head. "Not a chance! I want pictures, though - I expect this group cleans up real good! Besides, knowing you, there'll be other times, right?"

She grinned. "Most likely!" Still smiling, she turned to Jack and said, "Can I speak with you for a second or two, love?"

Jack nodded and followed her to his office.

The people left at the table paused, noting the way Janice touched his arm as they talked, and the way his hand automatically went to her back as he ushered her into his office. Glancing at Terry, however, they refrained from comment.

Terry tried not to grin. He knew no one wanted to say anything in front of him for fear he'd report back to Jack, but damn, he thought, there was certainly a lot of rapid thinking going on. Poor Jack. If he'd known what they were thinking, he'd have died. Janice, of course, would be patting herself on the back.

"Lucky stiffs. I miss all the good stuff," he said good-naturedly before turning his gaze back to the whiteboard.

Taking their cue from him, the team settled down to prepare for their assignments. A few minutes later, after saying goodbye to Janice, Jack returned to find that they were almost ready to leave. Looking over at Terry, he asked, "Got a minute?"

Terry nodded and rose. "You bet.'

Before the two of them left, Jack turned to Martin and Samantha. "I won't be long. You can check the details of your case on your computers - I've forwarded what NYPD sent along. Wait until I have a chance to speak with you before you leave, though."

That said, he and Terry headed for his office.

As soon as they were out of earshot, conversation started.

Leaning forward slightly, Danny glanced at everyone and said in a sly tone, "This is going to be interesting."

Vivian shot him a gentle, reproving look. "Danny, don't start!"

He raised his hands in a gesture of innocence and sat back. "Me? What are you talking about? She just seems pretty comfortable, don't you think? And asking us all out? I wonder if they're going to make an announcement of some sort. Did you notice that 'we' in "We hope you can all come"?"

"She told me she was returning to England around Christmas time," Samantha said.

"A lot can happen before then," Danny grinned knowingly.

"Perhaps she's just going to settle her affairs," Martin suggested.

Vivan watched them carefully, aware there were very different sentiments behind each one of the comments she'd just heard. Turning her gaze towards Martin, she scolded, "Martin, not you too?"

The hopeful tone in his voice had been unmistakable. Having Jack tied up with someone would make things easier, perhaps, for him and Samantha, so she could understand the reason for the tone. Still, she thought it would be wise to stop the speculative conversation before it went too far.

Danny grinned again. "Okay, Mom," he teased. "We'll behave. It's going to be a good time, though. Watching Jack and Janice will just be an enjoyable side line to the evening!"

"Who you going to bring?" Martin asked.

"That'd be telling," Danny said. "I'll leave it a surprise."

Martin laughed. "Which means you don't know which one, eh?"

"We'd better get started, don't you think?" Samantha asked. She didn't like what she was seeing develop between Jack and Janice, and found it hard not to express her concern when everyone else seemed to be so positive.

Sobering, the rest of the team agreed, and rose to do their work.

-XXX-

While they were compiling their notes on their new case, Martin sat back and regarded Samantha carefully. "Janice and Jack seem to be quite an item," he said casually.

She didn't look up from the paper she was writing on. "Yeah, they do," she replied in a neutral tone.

"Seems awfully soon after his separation," he observed.

"They've known each other a long time," she said abruptly.

"They seem to complement each other."

"They haven't lived with each other yet.".

"They are now," was Martin's quick return.

Finally, she looked up and frowned. "Can we talk about something else? We don't know for sure what's going on, and we likely won't, until Jack decides to tell us."

Martin's face stiffened, and his brows drew together. "Then perhaps we should talk about who you were with last night when I called here," he said, taking a stab in the dark.

Not knowing how the hell he knew Jack had been there, she decided to stick to the truth. "Jack came in about midnight. I had no idea he'd show up," she told him abruptly.

Martin felt his guts tighten. Now he had confirmation of his worst suspicions. "You said you were going home."

"I told you last night; I changed my mind."

The two regarded each other warily, Samantha trying not to feel defensive, in spite of knowing she'd done nothing wrong, and Martin trying to contain his anger and disappointment - and trying to resolve what was obviously going on with Jack and Janice with what he suspected was going on between Jack and Samantha.

Finally, he shrugged. "I guess we should get going. Can't keep important people waiting too long, or they'll complain to our boss. Want to check to see if Jack's ready to talk to us?"

Not liking the tone in which he asked his question, Samantha shook her head. "You do it. I want to see how Viv's doing with Houston before I go."

Martin shrugged. Life had taught him that persistence usually won out, so it was second nature to him to continue to consider how he could make things work with Samantha. It was what he wanted, and it only made sense, after all, that the two of them should be together. Jack, he figured, would soon be off limits and not apt to look Samantha's way again - after all, if it had been Samantha Jack was truly interested in, he'd have made a move back in her direction after his decision to remain in New York, right?

-XXX-

Inside Jack's office, Terry shook his head. "I didn't want to emphasize it too much out there, but we'd better find this Miquella woman fast."

Jack looked at him quizzically. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Whoever's doing these murdrs is very seirous about it. The plan was to kill Miquella, so that's what he's going to do - unless, of course, he has already."

"So we'd better hope Danny meets up with some luck out there this morning."

Terry nodded. "Damned right, 'cause something tells me if he doesn't strike it lucky soon, it means our missing woman is a very dead missing woman." He cursed at himself inwardly, kicking himself for not realising just how important it was that they find the woman in the first place. He'd been too complacent, and now there was a good chance someone would pay with their life because of it.

If they hadn't already.

End  
Chapter 20


	21. Chapter 21

Hey! Here's chapter 21, as promised. It's longer than usual, so hopefully it will tide everyone over until I can manage to get the next chapter finished, edited, and posted! Again, I want to say thank you to the people who let me know they're enjoying this - it keeps me coming back to the computer to write more! And thanks to Diane, who will no doubt notice I've changed things yet again - and very likely made editing errors that will make her head spin! Remember they're my errors and not her oversights!

To those of you who also write: thank you for the pleasure you provide when you post. And post more. Soon. Please. Feed the addiction, okay!

Oh- and one final warning...this chapter kinda meanders around a bit...

**Too Good To Be True  
**By: Mariel

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**Chapter 21**

Danny's firm knock on the battered, paint-chipped door was answered almost immediately. The young woman who opened it chewed vigorously on a large wad of gum. Hand on jeans-clad hip, her heavily made-up eyes gave Danny an expert once-over before she asked, "Who y'lookin' for?" without missing a jaw-crunching beat.

"Miquella," Danny replied, his eyes surveying what he could see of the inside of the apartment. When the young woman frowned, he gave her his most dazzling smile and took a calculated guess. "I'm not sure that's the name she always uses, but I have a picture."

As he moved to take it out of his breast pocket, the woman at the door laughed and relaxed against the door jamb.

"You're the one who likes to take pictures? She told me about you!" She looked at him sharply, and commented, "I figured you as bein' older." Maintaining a steady snapping sound with her gum as she spoke, she said, "I can't believe she told you where we live. I'm gonna have t'fuckin' kill her. Givin' out our address is against house rules." Her tone, however, was more matter-of-fact than murderous.

Blown away by his good fortune for the second time that day, Danny was smart enough to put away the passport photo, unseen.

Grinning knowingly, he relaxed his stance and happily took advantage of the woman's misunderstanding. "I think she likes me. I'd sure like to see her again. You know where she is?"

The woman eyed him up and down again. Moving to position herself so that he had a good look at what she had to offer, she shrugged. "Workin' her usual spot, I s'pose. Though she may be back in a while. She was out early today, lookin' to pick up some early bird specials. Y'wouldn't believe how many like a little action before they clock in at the office." She cocked her head to one side and gave him an amused, knowing look. "You been there?"

Danny wasn't certain whether she meant to the corner or in need of a little action before work. Taking the safer route, he told her,"I didn't meet her at her regular spot, so I don't know where that is."

Lulled by Danny's smile, the woman didn't question where, exactly, he'd met her roommate. Nodding her tousled, dark-haired head in a vaguely northern direction, she said, "Go two blocks north and hang a right. She should be right there, near the corner, in front of JBird's Bar."

Stepping back, Danny sketched a hasty thanks.

As he walked down the dingy hallway, the woman stretched her neck out the door and yelled, "My names Cindy! It's a little early for me, but if you don't find her, you're welcome to c'mon back here! I'll match her rate!"

Danny turned and sketched a quick salute of acknowledgement before hurrying on his way.

-XXX-

Returning to his car, Danny phoned Jack's cell, got no response, and then tried the office number.

"Hey, you're back already," he said, when Jack answered.

"Didn't take long," his boss told him. "Victoria Newbury couldn't tell me much - it was Georgina who knew the people helping on the street."

Samantha had been right when she'd theorised that Victoria was more involved in the organisational and administrative end of things. What hadn't been expected was how well Georgina had shrouded the identities of the people helping in secrecy. Though Victoria had organised who was sent to whom, she knew the contacts only by their pseudonyms and profiles. Georgina had been the person to actually contact them, wanting, Victoria had explained, to keep her sister as far removed from possible prosecution as possible. "She was always afraid that my helping would somehow hurt me in the end." Victoria had shaken her head, her eyes distressed. Looking at Jack, she'd said, "All that worry about my reputation if it became known what I was doing, and she ends up murdered. How is that right?"

Bringing his thoughts quickly to the present, Jack told Danny, "She had a couple suggestions that we'll have to follow up on. And I'm still trying to figure out why Georgina's records didn't have any of that information in them. Victoria says it should have been there, but it's definitely not. Something's up with that, but I'll have to worry about it later. What's going on with you?"

"I found Miquella," Danny said, trying to keep his voice matter-of-fact. "She's working a corner not far from where I am now."

Jack could imagine the excitement the younger agent felt but was trying hard not to show. Unsurprised that Danny had got results, he heaved a sigh of relief and smiled into the receiver. "Good going! How the hell did you find her?"

Danny grinned as he pulled out into traffic. "Serendipity's my middle name, remember? I was getting nowhere talking to the owner of that corner store I told you about. Then a customer came in. Honest to God, just like that I had my lead. The customer overhead us and said he remembered coming in to buy a pack of cigarettes. Damn if it wasn't the night of the murder. On his way out, he said he saw a woman running out of the alleyway we found Georgina's body in. He got a good look at her, because she stopped for a minute just a few feet from him and looked around as though trying to figure out which direction to keep running in. But that's not all. He said he was sure he'd seen her a couple days ago, down around St. George Street," he said, naming an area known for its low rents and transient population and located not far from the murder site. "So I went down to St. George Street. I showed her picture around and found someone who knew what building she was living in. Her super gave me her name and apartment number, and her roommate, thinking I was one of her johns, told me what corner to find her on."

While Danny caught his breath from telling his story, Jack asked, "She didn't think it odd you were calling for her at home?"

"You'd have to meet her roommate. I think they're both new at this hooker thing." Making a turn onto the street the roommate had told him he'd find Miquella, he told Jack, "I gotta go. I'm almost there."

"Good. Pick her up and bring her in."

Hoping Miquella hadn't found herself a customer, Danny said, "Sure thing. Just cross your fingers she's there." Flipping his phone closed, he looked around, and wondered what kind of desperate straits you'd have to be in to work the streets at this hour.

-XXX-

Jack had just hung up from letting Terry know they had a lead on Miquella when Samantha rounded the corner and stepped into his office. Walking to the chair in front of his desk, she flopped down into it and crossed her legs comfortably.

"There ought to be a law against wasting federal agents' time looking for spoiled brats."

"Case solved already?" Jack asked.

"Case solved already," Samantha confirmed.

Jack smiled. "I told you it wouldn't take too long." Looking out into the bullpen area, he asked, "Where's Martin?"

"Picking up something for lunch. We figured we'd eat here."

"So you found the kid okay?"

Samantha nodded. "Yeah. Holed up in some dive with a prostitute. Said he wasn't going home. We told the prostitute to get lost. Once his entertainment was gone, we suggested that perhaps we could call his parents to come and get him. He decided he might as well let us take him home." Elbows on the armrests of the chair, she waved her hands in the air. "Mommy and Daddy are grateful for our help."

Jack grunted. "They should be. It's the third time this year." When you got a call from the deputy mayor's office to find his AWOL kid, that's what you did. It didn't mean you had to like doing it, though.

"Anything happen with the case?" Samantha asked, wanting to forget all about the deputy mayor, his kid, and the time she and Martin had wasted that morning reuniting them. Some things just had to be done, so you did them, and moved on. "I'm worried about Miquella," she admitted.

"Danny thinks he's found her. I spoke with him about twenty minutes ago. He-"

The phone on his desk rang. Picking it up, he listened a moment, nodded, said, "Great. See you shortly," and hung up.

Taking his hand from the receiver, Jack explained, "That was Danny. He's picked Miquella up and is headed here. He's not sure how helpful she's going to be."

Out of the corner of her eye, Samantha noticed Martin walk towards the bullpen area with two takeout bags. She ignored her waiting lunch, however, as relief flooded through her. Her mind still focussed on Miquella, she said, "At least she's safe. It must have been hell for her to have been out there all this time, knowing what she knew and being too frightened to come forward. How's she been supporting herself all these weeks?"

Jack inclined his head and gave her a look. It was all the answer she needed. Her heart sank.

"At least she'll be safe now. And she'll be able to help us find our killer," she said.

"She may refuse to tell us anything," Jack reminded her.

"She won't once she realises how important this is," Samantha retorted confidently.

Jack hoped her confidence was not misplaced. Having noticed Samantha's lunch stroll by, however, he nodded his head towards the bullpen table, where Martin sat waiting with the two brown paper bags in front of him. "Go eat," he told her. "When you're finished, we'll talk about what we're going to do about finding our man. Victoria wasn't a lot of help, but we aren't at a dead end yet - she thinks our friend at the shelter may be able to help us."

Remembering Frank Black and the shelter Georgina had spent so much time helping at, Samantha cast him a curious look and opened her mouth to speak. Before she could say anything, Jack raised his hand. "No. Eat first. I've got a couple things in here I need to get done. Now that we've got Miquella, I feel safer. Everything can wait a little while more while we organise ourselves. And before we go, I want to watch Danny talk to her, just in case she offers up something we can use."

Samantha nodded, glad for the 'we', which meant he planned for her to go with him. Pleased with the thought, she left. Walking towards Martin and her waiting lunch, she decided to keep an eye on Jack for when he left to view the interrogation. Curious as to what the woman would look like and be like, and concerned enough that she wanted to see for herself that the woman was all right, she too wanted to watch.

-XXX-

An hour later, Jack and Samantha stood on the other side of the one-way glass, looking into the interrogation room. "My God," Samantha said in a low voice. "How old is she? Fifteen?"

"Her documents say nineteen," Jack said, "but you're right - she looks too young for any of this."

"Do you think she saw something?"

"Danny seems pretty sure she did. She's scared, though. She hasn't had such a good time of it, so we're not sure how willing she will be to tell us anything."

Samantha nodded. She'd seen it before. People clamming up because they were sure that the mess they were in wasn't half as bad as the mess they might get themselves into if they said anything.

Samantha gazed at the woman silently. Miquella looked small and young and lost. Every instinct in her told Samantha the woman needed reassurance and an offer of help. She glanced at Jack, wishing he had asked her to be in on the questioning.

Jack, seeing the look on her face, knew what she was thinking. Feeling sorry, he told her, "I thought Danny and Vivian should do the questioning."

Samantha nodded. She understood his reasons for choosing the other two agents without him having to give them. Turning more fully towards him, she smiled slightly and tilted her head to one side. "I know. Thanks, though," she told him.

His eyebrows rose. "For what?"

"For knowing I'd want to."

He looked at her with warm eyes and cupped her shoulder with his hand. Their closeness and the darkness they stood in lulled him into forgetting to keep a safe distance. Not thinking to keep the affection he felt for her out of his voice, he said gruffly, "Sam, there's a lot in life I don't know, but I do know you. You've been worried about this woman since you found out she existed. I can understand your wanting to be in on this, but right now, I think Danny and Vivian's presence will do the woman better."

The sound of someone turning the door handle to the observation room made Jack drop his hand abruptly. Samantha took a quick step backwards and turned again to face the woman on the other side of the glass.

"We're ready, Jack."

Jack nodded at Danny. "Be gentle. She's afraid."

Danny shook his head soberly. "She'd be a lot more afraid if she knew what was out there looking for her."

With that, he stepped back into the hallway and closed the door firmly behind him, leaving Samantha and Jack alone once again.

-XXX-

Though she began by telling them she didn't know anything, Miquella was slowly brought around. "It's difficult to say," she finally said in lilting, accented English. "It was dark..."

"But you did see something," Vivian prompted gently. "You did see what happened to Georgina."

"I was rushing," the woman finally admitted "I knew that a woman named Georgina was to meet me, and I was late...the bus didn't get in until after it was scheduled to, and then I took the wrong city bus, and..." She shook her head. "When I went into the alleyway, I was hurrying, looking for the woman who was to meet me and afraid she would not be there. It was dark, so I had to slow my steps. I think he did not hear me coming. I didn't realise what was happening at first. Then I saw the woman in the man's arms slump to the ground. I knew something was very wrong. I turned and ran away. I didn't dare to go back."

Danny and Vivian looked at one another. So Georgina had been killed before Miquella had arrived, and not because she'd interrupted something between Miquella and the murderer.

"Could you describe him for us?" Danny asked, glad that she was finally admitting that she had seen anything at all.

Miquella shook her head. "It was dark..."

"Yes, but not so dark that you couldn't tell that it was a man and a woman. Not so dark that you couldn't see anything," Danny prompted.

The woman scrunched up her features, genuinely trying to remember. "He was not so much taller than the woman he killed," she said. Lifting a slender hand to her own, curly-haired head, she told them, "His hair was short, with maybe a little curl to it, but not a lot. I think it was dark, but it is hard to tell at night if hair is black or brown or whatever..." Her voice trailed off as descriptions became more difficult.

Vivian leaned forward slightly. "Miquella," she said, her voice soft, "If you close your eyes, what do you see? Picture it in your head."

The young woman looked at her with frightened eyes. "Picture it in my head? That's all I've done since it happened."

Inside the observation area, Jack stepped back from the window. Knowing that there would likely be little more information from the woman, and that the next logical move would be to see if she could work with an artist to come up with a picture of the man she had seen, Jack tapped Samantha on the shoulder. "Let's go. I want to get to the shelter before it gets too late."

Samantha nodded, and followed him out of the observation room.

-XXX-

Jack looked at his watch as they walked towards the shelter's entrance. "Hard to believe it's only two o'clock," he commented, feeling as though the day had flown by.

"Yeah," Samantha said. "Time flies when you're having fun." She cast him a curious glance. "What makes you think Frank Black will be able to help us?" she asked.

Jack shrugged. "Victoria suggested I try talking to him again. She was pretty certain he might be involved."

They stopped at the front door. Looking down at the blonde by his side, Jack smiled, "Cross your fingers."

Once inside, they walked directly to Frank's office. They had called ahead, so he was there, waiting. Rising, he walked around his desk to shake their hands in greeting. Looking from one agent to the other curiously, he said, "Good to see you again." Gesturing towards the chairs, he invited them to sit, then asked, "I understand you think I might be able to help you in an investigation?"

As they seated themselves, Jack said, "Yes. We've confirmed that Georgina was part of an underground group that helped women escape from abusive relationships. I've been led to believe that you were either involved yourself, or were at least aware of what she was doing."

Frank looked down at his hands. He frowned and thought for a moment, then nodded. "I suppose there's not much point in denying it now," he said. "I'm not sure that we're going to continue. Georgina was really the guiding force behind it, and now..." His voice drifted off. Here was yet another who missed Georgina Blackwell's presence.

Samantha's voice brought him back to the present. "What we're interested in," she said, "is someone she used as a contact person. There were a number of people who met the women when they first arrived in the city. We're looking for one in particular. A man."

Frowning, Frank paused to think. "There were only four of us who ever met people - at least that I know of. Georgina was one of them, I did it occasionally, when no one else could, and then there was Nomi and Raphael."

"You each had code names?"

He nodded. "It always seemed silly to me, but Georgina insisted. She said that if anyone ever found the files, she didn't want things to fall apart because it became known who everyone in the group was."

"And perhaps she wanted to protect people, since what you're all doing is illegal?" asked Jack in a dry tone.

Frank nodded again. "Yeah, that too, probably."

"Do you know who 'Raphael' and 'Odin' are?"

"I'm Odin," he replied readily, surprised that they knew so much.

Jack nodded. That fit with what Frank had told them earlier. Odin had had the fewest contact meetings of all the names. "And 'Raphael'? he prompted.

Frank paused, obviously wondering if he should betray the confidence.

"We're looking for a serial killer, Mr. Black. He's been killing the same women you've spent so much time and effort to help," Samantha told him.

Her words swayed him. Opening up a desk drawer, he began to search through its contents. "I'm not supposed to even have this, but there was an emergency one night, and Georgina asked me to contact him to tell him about a change in plans...it should be here..." He frowned when his search came up empty. He looked around the cluttered office, as though wondering where else it could be hiding, then opened up another drawer in his desk. "It has to be here somewhere. I remember saving it, figuring I might need it again, someday, you just never know..." He began to pile papers and pens, a stapler and notebooks, and then other desk drawer minutia onto the top of his desk. Finally, he made a sound of discovery and held up a piece of paper.. "Got it!"

Rising, he said, "I don't have an address or name, just this number, but you can figure that out if you have this, right? I'm sure this person has nothing to do with the murders. I can't imagine Georgina not being very careful about the people she chose. But perhaps he can give you some information that will help you," he told them.

After thanking Frank for his help once again, Jack and Samantha left. holding the piece of paper Frank had given them up in his hand, Jack said, "We'll head back to the office and get what we need on this."

Samantha nodded.

-XXX-

Once back in the office, Jack moved things along quickly. Learning that Terry's contact with the Houston PD had given them important information about one particular name they were investigating, Jack promptly called a meeting in the bullpen.

Looking up at the board, he said, "Okay, we've got two people to track down. One in Houston, one here in New York. Martin, Danny: I want you in Texas. Try for a flight out tonight so that you can start first thing tomorrow. I want you to find this guy and question him. Samantha, you and I are going after Raphael. I've called in the phone number, and we'll soon have a name and an address." Turning to Vivian, he said, "I'm going to save you as back-up for anything that might come in, and to act as office liaison while we're out in the field. Just keep the home fires burning, okay?"

A few more comments, and the agents prepared to leave.

Once she had gathered her things, Vivian approached Jack and surprised him by quietly asking, "Could I speak with you for a minute? In your office?"

Jack nodded and walked with her into his office. Once inside and with the door closed, she moved to stand in front of his desk.

"I know this isn't exactly the best time to request this, but I need a couple personal days...Starting tomorrow." Before he could open his mouth to say anything, she put up a hand, "I would have given more notice, but I didn't have any myself. Something's come up that I have to take care of. I'm sorry. Forty-eight hours is all I need. Perhaps you can call someone in to take care of the office stuff while I'm gone?"

Jack looked at her, his eyes showing his curiousity. He knew the woman standing in front of him too well to ask why she was asking for time off now. If she wasn't telling him straight out, then she didn't want to. And Vivian was a private person who wouldn't like being put in the position of refusing to give an answer. He sighed. If she needed two personal days, she really needed two personal days. Trusting her, he nodded and said, "We can handle it. Got the paperwork filled out?"

She nodded and produced a swathe of papers from a file she was holding in her arms. "All ready for your signature."

Still standing, he placed them on his desktop. He perused them quickly to see that everything was filled out as required, and signed where he needed to sign. Straightening up, he passed the papers back to Vivian. "Here you go. We'll see you in a couple days."

Vivian smiled. "Thanks Jack."

He nodded, knowing that what she was really thanking him for was for not asking any questions.

"No problem, Viv," he said. Holding her gaze so that she saw his concern, he added, "Just make sure you're back here on time."

Her smile broadened. "I think I'll manage that."

He watched her leave, a puzzled frown marring his features. Then the phone rang and the case once again took precedence in his thoughts.

End  
Chapter 21


	22. Chapter 22

Lots of author's notes today...Anmodo, to be honest, I wrote that Danny scene hoping you'd like it! I'm glad it inspired you, 'cause I love reading your stories. EloiseTwo, it was good to hear from you! And ahem...I re-read your most excellent "The Lady Vanishes" just a couple days ago, and would love to read something new from you! Please! JackofSpade, I love your review style! Thanks for the time and effort you put into them!

Sun Walker, thanks for your oh-so-discreet requests for an update! And Diane, as always, thanks for the eagle-eyed beta-ing and warnings about being too Canadian! Sometimes it sneaks out when I'm not looking! Agent Pnk, Sara, serataja, agentspade and makemyday...you all do. Make my day, that is. Thanks for following this story throughout its twists and turns and letting me know you're still hanging in there. And Justine: thanks for the kiwi smiles!

Happy Monday, everyone...

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 22**

Samantha followed Jack through the parking garage, enjoying the thrill of anticipation that always flowed through her when she was certain they were about to discover something critical. Reaching the car, she looked over the roof of it before getting in and caught Jack watching her, a smile on his face.

She paused.

"What?" she asked.

"You look happy."

Her brow furrowed. "And I didn't before?"

He smiled more widely and shrugged. With a jerk of his head, he said, "Get in."

She did as he said, but continued to watch him as he pulled out of their parking space and made his way to the exit. She looked puzzled.

"Did I miss a spot shaving, or what?" Jack finally asked.

"No. I'm just wondering if you're going to tell me what you were talking about."

He turned the car out onto the street before answering. "Nothing much. I mentioned it last night- sometimes you don't look happy. You are at the moment, though. It's good to see."

He had no idea what impulse had made him say anything. Afraid he had somehow overstepped his bounds, he said no more, and turned his attention to the traffic.

Samantha, not knowing what else to say, just uttered a soft, "Oh." It was impossible to tell him that she was happy because she was working with him. Impossible to tell him about the relief she felt over Martin going away so she wouldn't have to think about what she was going to do about their situation for another few days. She knew things were coming to a head. Knew that Martin was bound to be angry for a while about the Jack-at-the-office-the-night-she-was-there thing, and knew that he was going to become more and more insistent about telling everyone they were seeing each other.

And she still wasn't ready for that.

She sighed, because deep down, there was a growing suspicion that she wouldn't ever be ready for that. Worse, she realised her indecision wasn't fair to Martin. Stringing him along had never been her intent - she really had hoped that perhaps, if she hung in there long enough, her feelings would change. Skidding her eyes towards Jack and then just as quickly away, she sighed. God knew her life would be a hell of a lot simpler if they had...but they hadn't, and now, her only excuse for still being in the relationship was a mixture of emotional inertia and the hope that perhaps he would realise things were going nowhere and end it himself.

Jack noticed the change in her demeanour. "I shouldn't have said anything. Now you're worrying about whatever it is that's been bothering you."

She looked at him, a frown creasing her brow. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

Knowing she was getting dangerously near personal ground, she hesitated, then said, "Know what I'm feeling without even looking at me."

He grinned at the windshield. "I told you: I know you."

"Yeah? Well, stop it." She knew she didn't sound as though she meant it.

His grin broadened.

They turned to look at each other at the same time, and their eyes locked. As simply as that, tension entered and filled the car. She became aware of him; he became aware of her. As their smiles faded, memories regained their clarity. Jack cleared his throat and they both turned and trained their eyes firmly on the cars in the street in front of them.

After a few moments of strained silence, Samantha forced a change of topic. Settling back into her seat, she asked, "So, what do you know so far about this Raphael?"

With practiced ease, Jack flipped from personal to professional response mode. Clearing his thoughts, he began his review. "Not all that much. You already know his name is Jonathan Smith. Viv called a few of the neighbours. The ones she found at home all say the same thing: it's not unusual for our guy to be away for a few days at a time. No one seems to know what he does for a living, but they all agree it involves travelling fairly regularly. He keeps to himself; no one knows much about him." He shrugged. "Just your typical city dweller drone." Drawing to a stop behind a taxi that had stopped in the middle of the street to pick up a fare, he refrained from joining in the cacophony of protesting car horns and instead sat patiently and asked, "What about you? What did you find?"

Samantha reached back for the slim file she'd tossed onto the back seat when she'd entered the car. Opening it, she commented, "No picture of him - in fact, not even a driver's licence to show us what he looks like - and no personal history available, except that his IRS returns indicate he's lived at this address for ten years, and that he was in Virginia before that." She looked up at him. "They're working on figuring out where he's employed. He must have a bank account somewhere, too, where he deposits his paychecks."

Jack nodded, knowing that it was possible he didn't. "He files his tax returns? Interesting." He thought a moment, then said, "If we don't have any luck here, we're going to have to take a look in Virginia; see if anyone there still has contact with him."

"His phone records don't indicate that he keeps in contact with anyone anywhere," she commented. "I'm surprised he even bothers to have a phone - about the only incoming calls he has are from telemarketers. And he only made three outgoing calls last month - to a pharmacy, a grocery store, and the weather line."

Jack cast her an interested look. "Did anyone call the pharmacy to ask about that call?"

Samantha shook her head. "I didn't have time. Vivian said she'd try to before she leaves."

"Good. Maybe she'll call the grocery store, too."

If not, he'd just add it to his list of things to do. A shadow of worry crossed his mind about the reason for Vivian's upcoming absence, but it was quickly replaced by other thoughts.

He turned onto a street and began looking for a place to park.

After they had gone the length of the block with no success, Samantha looked over at him and smiled.

"Forget to visualise a space?"

"Forgot to visualise," he confirmed. "You obviously did, too."

Her lips curved. "Guilty as charged."

Visualising an empty parking space waiting for them at their destination - and having one actually be there when they arrived - had been a running routine between them for years. The idea had come from a 'positive thinking' radio program they had listened to during a long drive several years earlier. Since then, they had made a habit of telling each other to visualise a spot so that there'd be one waiting for them. They had never quite worked out if the power of positive thinking provided them with their sought-after spot more times than it didn't, but it was a pleasant ritual that they enjoyed.

The third time around the block, with Jack growing more and more frustrated with each turn, they hit it lucky and pulled into a spot only a short walk from their suspect's apartment building.

Getting out of the car and slamming the door, Samantha looked over the car's roof at Jack. "Not at all like in the television shows, eh?"

"Maybe they visualise better than the rest of us," he quipped, trying to relax the muscles in his neck that had tightened during his search.

-XXX-

A few minutes later, they stood in front of the Jonathan Smith's building and looked with critical eyes up at the eight-story structure. It was neither terribly run down nor exceptionally well-kept. Built of sturdy red brick, and with regularly spaced windows sporting iron bars on the lower level, it had wide, cement steps leading to the front door.

"I phoned ahead. The super's apartment is on the first floor, to the right of the entrance," Samantha said as they walked up the steps. "He didn't sound terribly surprised that the FBI would want to go through one of his tenant's apartments. Said he'd let us in if we showed ID."

"I like it when they're accommodating," Jack said, pulling open the large entrance door and letting Samantha enter first.

The person who opened the super's apartment door was a small man, about five foot six, his face unshaven well past the fashionable five-o'clock-shadow look. When he saw who stood in the hallway outside his door, the man reached for the wad of keys hanging from a worn leather belt that failed to contain his bulging belly. Without even asking who they were, he told them, "I've been waitin'. Smith is up on the fifth floor. The damned elevator's closed for maintenance, so we'll have to walk up."

"Hello," Jack said with exaggerated politeness. "I'm Special Agent Jack Malone, and this is Agent Spade."

"Yeah, I figured that," the man said abruptly. Not bothering to introduce himself in return, he said, "And like I said, we gotta walk up."

He didn't sound too happy about it.

"Would you like us to take the key and go up by ourselves? We could return it when we're finished," Jack offered.

The man turned and glanced at the television blaring in his front room. Turning back to look at the two agents, he nodded grudgingly. "Yeah, that'd be fine. I got stuff I gotta get done. I'll need to see your ID, though."

Both agents flashed their FBI cards. Barely glancing at their badges, the man nodded and gave Jack the key.

-XXX-

"He didn't seem too interested in why we wanted to see the apartment," Samantha observed as they climbed a third set of stairs.

"Probably figured it was better not to know," Jack answered briefly. Feeling winded, he wondered when they had started building stairs so steep. Trying to control the need to breathe heavily, he thought perhaps a few days a week at the gym might be something to consider in the near future.

Finally reaching their destination, they were pleased to find that the key they had been given opened the door easily. Inside, they found an unremarkably furnished one-bedroom apartment with a galley kitchen just to the right of the entrance. The walls were painted a dull beige and the bent venetian blinds on the windows looked as though they likely dated back to when the building had been first built. The apartment itself was no neater than might be expected for the dwelling place of someone living alone - a few magazines lay on the floor by the sofa, an empty glass sat on a side table. Walking into the kitchen area, Samantha opened the refrigerator door. Looking in, she remarked, "No perishables in here. He must plan to be away a while."

"Must be on one of his business trips," Jack remarked as he left the living room to enter the single bedroom.

About five minutes later, Jack reappeared from the bedroom. He didn't look encouraged. Taking off his plastic gloves, he said, "Nothing much in there."

Samantha looked up from the small pile of mail she had found in a desk. "He doesn't keep much paper around."

She looked over at a coat hanging up by the door. On impulse, she placed the mail down and walked over to it. A few moments of rummaging around in its pockets produced nothing, except for a short receipt and a few coins.

"I can't find anything," she said. Looking at the receipt, she stopped. "Wait." She peered more closely at it, then looked at Jack. "This receipt is from a store in Houston."

Jack walked across the floor to stand in front of her.

"He buys groceries in Houston?" he asked.

"Bread, meat, and produce," Samantha said, noting the items on the receipt.

"What's the date on it?"

Samantha squinted, trying to figure out the small numbers on the bottom of the paper. "It's hard to tell. Why don't they use darker ink?" she asked. Finally, she said, "I think it says April 27. Of this year." She turned dark eyes to meet his. "Didn't one of the women go missing around then?"

Jack paused. "There was one this spring - I don't remember the date off hand." Nodding towards the receipt she held in her hand, he said, "We're going to need a search warrent for this place. That's likely a valuable piece of evidence."

Finishing a thorough examination of the apartment, they found nothing else of interest.

"There's not even a photo of anyone," Samantha said, looking around.

Jack looked pensive. In spite of their being finished their search, he made no move to leave and instead walked to the window and looked out.

After a moment of thoughtful silence, he said, "Maybe this isn't his primary residence."

Samantha frowned. "Why would he need two places in New York?"

Jack turned to look at her briefly. "I don't mean he has another place in New York. I'm thinking he has another place somewhere farther away." He returned his gaze to the view outside. "Like Houston. We aren't looking at a case of two men sending women to each other. We have a case of one man working two ends of a system so he can increase his opportunity to kill and reduce the odds of his getting caught."

Samantha looked at him, her mind quickly understanding. "So the original theory of one killer was the right one." She paused, then played devil's advocate. "It could be that there are two, and they're friends, and he was visiting..."

Jack shook his head. His eyes still trained on the view from the small apartment's window, he said, "I dunno. Maybe. But this apartment and that receipt says this guy doesn't really live here. This is like a hotel room to him." He continued to stare out the window a moment longer, then stirred himself. Taking a deep breath, he turned. "Whatever the case," he told Samantha, "we'd better get back and fill Terry in."

Taking one last glance around the apartment, they left.

-XXX-

Terry sat back and listened to Jack and Samantha as they talked about what they had discovered and what their latest theory was. As always, he was interested not just in the case, but in the two people sitting across from him.

Just as he had been the first time he'd observed them, he was struck by the amount of unspoken communication that passed between them. They had no problem talking with each other, but even while speaking, another, unheard dialogue seemed to be always taking place. Their minds leap-frogging each other, they would chase an idea and meet at the conclusion together, enjoying the exercise and any disagreement they might encounter along the way.

And all the while, a deep physical awareness of the other thrummed in the air around them.

He wondered if the whole love affair had begun as a verbal sparring match, each enjoying the conversation of the other, each intrigued by the other's thought process and what it revealed about them. It wouldn't have been the first time that intellectual stimulation had turned into something emotional and physical.

Uppermost on his mind, however, was the case. "So now we need to look seriously at what Danny and Martin find in Houston," Terry concluded. "Or do you plan to go now, instead?" he asked Jack.

"We'll stay here," Jack said, unconsciously putting himself and Samantha together. "Martin and Danny will do fine. They've got their flights booked already - they couldn't leave until first thing tomorrow morning, though. The last flight out tonight was at six, and that was booked solid."

Having not been privy to that information, Samantha looked at Jack in surprise. So Martin would be around tonight. She knew that meant they would spend the evening together. She sighed inwardly, wondering if he would need to continue his conversation from the night before. She understood his wanting to take the next step in their relationship, could understand, even, his suspicions about her reluctance to take that step...but for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to tell him he was right - that there was something wrong, and it was all about her and her lack of feelings. Or, she thought with a quick glance at Jack, her lack of feeling for the right man. Looking down at her hands, she tried to rid herself of the sense of being trapped. What she had with Martin most people would give their eye teeth for. And yet it seemed that all she wanted was to have back what she had once had with Jack.

When she lifted her eyes again, they were caught by Terry's astute hazel ones.

She looked away quickly, feeling as though he'd been reading her thoughts.

End  
Chapter 22


	23. Chapter 23

Happy Monday! Thanks for hanging in there with this story. And for letting me know you're out there...

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 23**

As Samantha had expected, Martin made plans to spend the evening with her before his departure to Houston. First, they'd had dinner at a small restaurant near Martin's apartment. Afterwards, they'd gone to his place and, with the television on, had curled up comfortably together on the sofa.

Though she could still sense a certain tenseness in him, Samantha had been relieved to see Martin calmer and closer to his usual self than he had been earlier in the day. And so, glad both for having his company and for his going away for a few days to give her some time to think, she allowed herself to relax.

Until Martin brought up a stag and doe he was going to in a few weeks, and asked if she would like to go.

"A 'stag and doe'?" she asked. "What's that?"

"You know a stag's the party guys throw the groom-to-be, right? And I'm sure you've been to a bridal shower at some point. A stag and doe is just a stag and a bridal shower combined," he explained. "Jodie, my cousin, is getting married in December. She's keeping things simple, and figured this was one way of doing it." He smiled. "It's basically an excuse to party and get gifts."

"I've never heard of it."

He shrugged and waited patiently for her to give him an answer.

Recognising yet another ploy to make them an established, publicized 'couple', she said no, she didn't think so.

Martin's response was swift and abrupt.

"What is it with you?" he asked, his frustration with her evident. "Why do you insist on being so secretive? What difference does it make if people know we're seeing each other? I can't stand the indecision. One minute I feel as though we're a couple and everything's okay, and the next I feel as though I'm some big secret you're ashamed of. How am I supposed to know what the hell you want if you don't seem to know yourself? I mean, what am I supposed to think?"

Samantha took a deep breath. "Not now, Martin. I don't want to talk about it now."

"Like that's something new," he shot back bitterly.

Something in her face must have told him he had gone too far. Immediately remorseful, his demeanor changed completely. Lifting a hand to stroke her arm, he assured her, "Look, there'll be no pressure, and it'd be a great way for you to meet some of my family. It's no big deal, really, just a party for people getting married."

"But I've already met some of your family," she reminded him.

"Yeah, but only as a co-worker, not as a friend," he said. "I think it's time we started to let people know, and this is an easy way to do that."

She looked at him. That was exactly what she was trying to avoid.

"Martin, I'm not ready. I don't think so. Maybe another time..."

She made a feeble gesture with her hand. He had every right to be upset, but she couldn't help the way she felt. Something was wrong, and she knew how horrible it would be if they 'went public' and then had to live with it falling apart. Summoning up all her strength, she said, "Look, I'm sorry. But I've told you before: I feel really uncomfortable meeting your family just yet. A wedding is a big thing - everyone's there, right? Family, friends, neighbours... I don't think I can handle it."

"I'm not talking about the wedding. I'm talking about the stag and doe. You'd handle it just fine," he said. He watched as Samantha sat back against the cushions of the sofa, her head bent. Mistaking her pose for indecision, he felt hope stir. At least she was thinking about it.

Samantha's thoughts, however, were not what he would have hoped them to be. Having considered every possible excuse for not going, and knowing that he wouldn't accept any of them, she decided to take the easy way out. "Let me think about it some more," she said, knowing that come hell or high water, she wasn't going. "It's not until November, right? That's weeks and weeks away. Maybe by then..." Her words trailed off when she saw his expression. Martin, unfortunately, had grown tired of the 'wait and see' approach towards their being together - he wanted to take the bull by the horns and run with it.

She couldn't do that.

Wouldn't do that.

And had to find a way of getting out of it without making Martin angry or hurt.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and felt her heart sink.

That would be impossible. His heart and mind were set on their going public. It would be their Alamo. Or their Waterloo. Or whatever crazy, losing battle you could think of. He was going to be hurt and angry and it would be all her fault, because she couldn't move forward, couldn't move backward, and couldn't even manage to stay where she was, bcause Martin wouldn't let her.

Overwhelmed, and seeing the care and concern in his eyes, she had to look away. What was wrong with her? He was a wonderful guy. When she was with him like this, she knew she must be crazy. He was most women's dream catch.

A guy too good to be true...

So why couldn't she just let go and allow things to happen with him? He was good looking and young, an energetic lover and a good friend; he treated her with care and consideration, and there was no doubt in her mind but that he had fallen for her big time.

_So why couldn't she fall for him_?

She liked him; liked him a lot. Why couldn't she push her heart over the edge of that 'like' and let it fall into love?

A small, tiny voice in the back of her mind suggested the answer to that was all too simple: B_ecause your heart is already somewhere else._

She rose. "I think I should be going." Pausing, she looked at him, her eyes serious. He had done nothing to deserve the hot and cold treatment she doled out to him daily; had done nothing except remain steadfastly persistent in his determination to make their relationship work. Hesitantly, she said, "I don't know why I'm being like this, but it's how I feel. I don't want our relationship to drift, but I don't want it rowed in a direction I'm not ready to go in, either. Maybe-" She stopped herself, then forced herself to say it: "Maybe I'm not ready for a relationship of any kind just yet; I don't know. But I'm sorry I'm upsetting you."

Martin saw the honesty in her eyes. "Yeah. I know," he said in a low voice. He stared at her a long moment, then rose to stand in front of her. "Look," he said, "it's probably a good idea for you to go - we're stressed, and tired, and I've got to be out of here before dawn... but do you think maybe you could use the time I'm away to think? This could work, Samantha. We're good together."

Samantha smiled at him and wished she could feel what she thought she should. As always when she was with him and under his blue-eyed gaze, she wondered if she allowed herself enough time, if she could perhaps put her feeling aside and create new ones. Weakly, she said, "Thank you. More time is probably all I need. I'll sort myself out somehow."

He stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms. Bending his head, he kissed her gently on the mouth.

And felt disappointment when she responded, but without the passion he would have desired.

Understanding she was not going to change her mind and stay, he finally released her and stepped back. Lifting a hand, he slid it down the side of her head, relishing the soft feel of her hair beneath his palm. "Sleep well. I'll phone you from Houston."

Samantha nodded. As she left, she admitted to a feeling of wanting to stay. Where it was safe. Where it was predictable.

Her heart, however, just wasn't in it.

-XXX-

Within minutes of arriving at her desk the next morning, Jack handed Samantha a missing persons case to investigate. "Take a look at this, and then come talk to me," he said, before returning to his office.

Cursing inwardly, she quickly went over the details. Looking around at the empty bullpen area, she sighed. She'd rather have been looking for Jonathan Smith. Glancing at Jack through his office windows, she altered her thinking. At least she was assured of spending some time with him.

As though sensing her gaze, Jack lifted his head. His eyes met hers, and as always, she felt something electric pass through her. Lifting up the file she held in her hand to indicate she was finished, she rose and went into his office.

After reviewing the notes, they agreed to start their questioning with the roommate. Minutes later, Samantha was settling down into the passenger seat as Jack turned the car out of the parking garage and onto the street. Wanting to break the silence, Samantha asked, "Are you looking forward to the benefit dinner? It's hard to believe it's only a week away."

Jack shrugged, and his lips curved into a small smile. "I think it'll be the first time I've seen everyone dressed up all at once. It should be a good time."

Samantha paused, then said, "Janice mentioned you liked dancing."

He shot a quick look at her. "You knew that."

Well, yes, actually, she had. But still...

"Yeah, but this sounds like a step beyond dancing at the Christmas parties Van Doren used to throw."

Jack kept his eyes on the street. "When we were in Germany as kids, Janice talked me into taking lessons with her, so that she could practice with a boy instead of a girl. She's a hard woman to say no to now, and she was a hard girl to say no to then."

Samantha grinned, "So you took them and have benefited from them ever since."

He threw her an amused look. "I could probably have survived without," he opined.

"Maybe, but I'll have to pay particular attention to you on the dance floor Saturday night."

Again, he shot a look at her and their eyes held. Again, the car filled with memories and things they were still trying to ignore. Trying to keep his voice casual, Jack said, "Remind me to ask you to dance. I'll show you my skills first hand."

Unsure if he was flirting or not, Samantha smiled uncertainly and looked out her window. "Sounds good," she said to the view outside.

Mentally kicking himself, Jack allowed silence to sit between them for a while before turning the conversation away from the future and onto the case they were presently working on.

Switching easily to discussing the case, Samantha took a small moment to regret that she had not yet had the courage to ask him what his plans with Janice were. Just as she had the day she'd sat on the park bench and asked him if it were really over, she knew she needed direct confirmation from him that Janice was 'the one', and that he was settling down with her for a new happy-ever-after.

Now, however, didn't seem the time to force the point...

-XXX-

Arriving at the apartment the missing person had shared with a roommate, they were somewhat surprised by the greeting they received.

"Hey," the young woman said in an easy, friendly tone when she saw the two of them at her door.

Smiling at the casually dressed girl, Samantha held up her badge. "I'm Special Agent Samantha Spade. This is Special Agent Jack Malone. We're here in regards to your missing roommate."

The woman's eyes widened, and her demeanor changed dramatically. Obviously surprised by who they were and why they were there, she seemed at a loss for words. "Holy shit," she said faintly.

"Are you Debbie Taylor?" Samantha asked, wondering if perhaps they had the wrong apartment.

When the woman nodded wordlessly, Samantha asked, "Do you have a few moments?"

Her eyes still wide, the young woman nodded and stepped back from the door. After a shared look, Jack and Samantha followed her inside.

"Who called you? Who said she is missing?" the woman asked.

"Her parents. I'm surprised you weren't expecting us," Jack observed, his eyes watching her carefully. "You were the one who told her parents she had disappeared aren't you?"

Debbie nodded. "Well, yeah. I just didn't expect them to call you in so soon," Debbie said in a weak voice.

"You didn't expect them to?" Samantha asked in surprise.

Debbie shook her head. Turning her eyes towards the blond agent, she said, "No. Of course not! I told them to wait for a day or so. That maybe she just decided to take a break."

Samantha glanced at Jack, then asked, "I'm assuming you know something we and her parents don't?"

"Well, yeah," Debbie admitted uncomfortably. "Beth isn't missing...she's with her boyfriend. He wanted to take her to Florida for the weekend. No way was I going to be the one to tell her parents where she'd gone, or with whom. So I just said I didn't know where she was. And that I hadn't seen her for a day or so. It's up to Beth to tell them about Sean, not me."

Jack and Samantha shared another look. "So Beth has just gone off for a few days with Sean? You didn't think her parents would worry and call the police?" Jack asked.

"I told them not to worry, " she protested.

"Debbie, they're parents. They're supposed to worry."

She glanced between the two of them. "Then they should have called me first, before calling the police. Cripes. This is nuts."

"You're right," Jack agreed. "And so that we can clear this all up as quickly as possible, do you have a number where we can contact our two lovebirds?"

Debbie paused, then nodded. Rising, she said, "Sean has a cell phone. Debbie gave me the number, just in case."

"I need to have it. I'll phone to see if she's okay. Then perhaps Agent Spade and I can get back to work."

Debbie had the grace to look embarrassed, then left to get the number.

"Another one quickly solved," murmured Jack. "Remind me to find out who did the background check on this. I want to have a few words with them. We should never have been called in."

"At least she's safe, and we've only wasted a few hours," Samantha said, as Debbie returned with a piece of paper in her hand.

Fifteen minutes later, Jack had reached Sean, spoken with Beth, and instructed her to call her parents immediately.

Walking out of the building, he looked at his watch. "Hell. It's after noon. Let's grab something for lunch to take back with us. I'm hoping Danny and Martin will have phoned in to let us know if they've found anything."

-XXX-

Later that afternoon, Terry sat back and looked at Jack, worry etched deeply on his craggy features. "We're taking too long."

Jack nodded and vocalised something he'd been considering since they'd sat down to bounce ideas off one another. "Danny and Martin haven't found anything we didn't already know, and they're convinced Smith isn't there. I'm calling the two of them back. We'll let the Houston Police keep working on it as best they can. Smith must still be here in the city. And if that's so, it's likely he's preparing to kill again. He works to a pattern and to a schedule. He's going to want to get back to it."

Terry agreed. Working on a hunch, they'd looked for evidence that Jonathan Smith had left the city, but, though Samantha was still looking, they'd found none so far, and tended to agree with Danny and Martin's assessment that Smith was not in Houston. No plane, train or bus tickets had been sold to anyone with his name or description. Coincidently, the 'John' in Houston had not been seen for some time. Danny and Martin, having tracked down where Smith lived, had made a thorough search of his place there and found nothing to indicate he'd been there in weeks. And if he weren't there, he had to be back in New York.

Slouching back into his seat, Terry rested the ankle of one foot on his knee. "He knows we're looking for him. That's why he's left his apartment - not to go to Houston, but to avoid our finding him. He knows her murder is causing more interest and that there's a more serious investigation going on than happened with his previous murders." He grunted. "He's probably deciding that killing Rebecca was one of the stupidest things he's done so far. His murders have lost their anonymity." Lapsing into silence, his brow creased in thought.

It was unfair that Georgina Blackwell had drawn more police attention than had any of the young Filipina women Jonathan Smith had killed. He wondered how many more would have died without much remark before someone noticed, if Smith hadn't made the mistake of killing a socialite.

While Terry thought his dark thoughts, Jack sat quietly. A deep frown had settled on his face, and he stared at his fingers as they beat a steady, soft tattoo on his desktop. Abruptly the thumping of his fingers stopped and he spoke. "If he's still in the city, he's probably still looking for Miquella," he said in a thoughtful tone. "We don't know for sure, but he's probably never had to change his target. He's very methodical and directed. He sees each of these murders as a challenge and their completion a display of his success. He may still have his eyes set on her. He may feel that changing his target would be a sign of failure."

Terry considered Jack's words carefully. What his friend said made perfectly good sense. It certainly explained why Smith was still in New York. His mind working fast permutations, he quickly said, "And now that we know where she is, he likely does, too. It's only natural he'd do his best to keep tabs on what we're doing once he realised we were on to him."

Jack nodded. Visualizing the information still on the whiteboard out in the bullpen, he said, "His murders have been occurring at a quicker rate. We've slowed him down. He'll obsess over that. That will disrupt his thought processes, maybe make him less objective. His logic may not be so clear. Problem is," he said with a frown, "if he knows where Miquella is now, we've just made things easier for him. We've put her out into the open."

Disconcerted, Terry nodded. "And we've added the thrill of his being sought after. What he's doing isn't private anymore. It's public, and he's in the spotlight. He's going to be even more driven to succeed. Deep down, he'll like that. And want to show off."

"And if we've made him feel more daring..." Jack said.

"We'd better put someone on Miquella," Terry said quickly. He shook his head. "Damn. If I'd thought for one minute he was still around, I'd have had someone watching her all along."

Jack lifted the receiver of his phone. "Well, we've thought of it now. I'll take care of it."

After arrangements for Miquella to be put under suveillance for her own safety, the two men went out to the bullpen area. Samantha sat there alone. Jack frowned, remembering that Vivian wouldn't be back until the day after tomorrow. Mentally promising himself to ask her what the hell was going on with her when she returned, he motioned for Samantha to join them at the conference table.

"We're put someone on Miquella. If Jonathan Smith's still in the city, it may be because he still has his sights set on her. And since we know where she is now, he might, too." Nodding towards the whiteboard, he said, "He's going to be behind schedule. He'll want to be finishing up here so that he can get back to Houston."

Samantha frowned. "Wouldn't killing Miquella now be a bit risky for him? And just because we found her, doesn't mean he knows we did."

"Perhaps not," Jack agreed, "but I want to stay on the safe side. And as far as the risk factor is concerned, what he's been doing all along has been risky. Think about it: he's been playing both ends for three years, playing two different roles, maintaining two different lives. He's highly organized and lives by the routines that keep him unnoticed. He planned to kill Miquella; there's every chance he wouldn't give that up just because he's been discovered - it just increases his determination to get her."

Terry added, "His whole psychology is one of superiority. To leave without accomplishing his goal is something he probably hasn't even considered. He's just biding his time now until he gets his chance."

"But do we know for sure he knows where she is?"

Jack glanced at his watch. Looking up at her again, he said, "We don't, but we have to play it safe. Tomorrow, we'll canvass the area with the picture we got from Miquella's description. We'll see if anyone recognises him."

Mentally listing the things he needed to do before leaving, Jack said, "It's late. We should be going." He looked at Terry, "Janice expects you to come home with me - she says she's making dinner."

Both men knew that could be very, very good.

Or very, very bad.

Jack crossed his fingers that she had picked something up from that deli she liked so much, rather than attempt to put something together herself. In the past weeks, he'd become quite fond of their product, and was familiar with their menu.

Terry smiled. "I think I can handle that." He tapped his breast pocket. "I bought a roll of TUMS just this morning."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I'll tell her you come prepared," he remarked dryly.

"Do, and die," Terry threatened laconically.

Both smiling, the two men rose and then turned to look at Samantha. "You should go home and get some rest, Samantha," Jack said. "We've got someone watching Miquella, and tomorrow morning we'll check to see if anyone matching Smith's description has been seen around where she's living. It's a start, at least." He paused, then told her, "I'm going to bring Martin and Danny back tomorrow afternoon if they haven't found anything by then. I'm pretty certain they're right, and our guy isn't there."

Samantha nodded without speaking. Martin's return wasn't the good news Jack probably expected it to be.

"Have a good night, then," she said, when Jack waited expectantly for a response.

Jack looked at her as though he wanted to add something, then nodded. "Thanks," he said. Looking at Terry, he said, "I'll finish up what I've got left to do. You can call Janice and let her know when we'll be home."

Keeping her face expressionless, Samantha looked down at a file she held open in front of her. She didn't look up until she heard the two men leave for the night.

End  
Chapter 23


	24. Chapter 24

Sorry for taking so long with this. Most of it's been written for a while, but since I didn't know what approach I was taking in the next chapter, I couldn't write the last bit. Until this week. Then I straightened myself out, got it plotted a bit, and here we are. Finished at last. (This chapter, I mean.)

Many thanks to everyone who's still reading. Hopefully you'll still remember the gist of what's gone on before, and this chapter will make sense!

Take care, and Merry Christmas

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**  
Chapter 24**

The next morning, Jack breezed into the office only minutes after Samantha had settled at her desk. Dropping a sheaf of files onto the top of his filing cabinet, he walked out into the bullpen area to say good morning.

"You're here bright and early."

She turned her chair around and looked up at him.

"Figured there must be something I could do here before the day really gets started," she said. She glanced over at the wall clock. "You're in kinda early yourself."

"Guess we're on the same wavelength. There's some paperwork I need to do before we start, but I want to get out and ask around about Smith, and I figure we should talk to Miquella, too. She was told about the surveillance and the reason for it, but she might like to talk to someone who's connected to the investigation."

"You're hoping something's jogged her memory?" Samantha asked.

Jack nodded. "Maybe."

"There's always hope," she commented, without much herself. She then waved at the papers on her desk. "I'm still trying to figure out where it is Smith's been working the past three years. I can't find anything on him using either his address or his name, and his neighbour certainly didn't know." She shook her head. "It's been a long time, Jack. I should have found something by now. If we could find his workplace - or even a bank account - we might find someone who knows something about him that would help us."

Jack grunted. "So maybe we have an independently wealthy serial killer, who doesn't have to work?"

Samantha lifted an eyebrow. "Not too wealthy - that apartment didn't scream 'millions to spare'."

Jack nodded in agreement. "You've got a point. But he may have an income of some sort - something that gives him enough to get by on."

"So that he can concentrate on his 'hobby'?" asked Samantha darkly.

Turning towards his office, Jack didn't respond. Instead, he said, "See if you can pick up anything on the income angle. I'll go get some stuff done. When I'm finished, it'll be about time to go out and hit the street."

-XXX-

Two hours later, Jack and Samantha were driving through heavy traffic towards Miquella's residence. Having tried - and failed - to squash her curiosity about something she knew was none of her business, Samantha angled herself to look at Jack and casually asked, "So, how was dinner last night? Terry seemed a little concerned."

Jack smiled at the memory. Obviously in a mood to talk, he said, "He had every right to be. Janice doesn't cook. Hell, she's spent her entire life doing everything but the domestic chores the rest of us take for granted. She can figure out how to turn on the burners of most stoves, but after that, she finds the whole process kind of confusing." He glanced over at her and explained, "She's always had nannies or housekeepers to prepare meals, and clean, and do all the other stuff the rest of us take for granted."

Having been raised quite differently, Samantha suggested, "Perhaps someone should buy her a cookbook."

Jack chuckled. "I don't think she'd take the hint. Even when she's living without someone to do it for her, she hasn't come across a dining situation she couldn't buy her way out of. She's quite content to know every caterer in the city by first name. To be honest, I don't think she'd want to learn how to cook. And God knows with her money, she doesn't have to. She's happy the way she is. "

Samantha looked over at him, a flash of jealousy coursing through her at the relaxed fondness for Janice she heard in his voice. His easy acceptance of this particular idiosyncrasy surprised and disconcerted her. Though they hadn't done it a lot, on the few occasions she and Jack had spent time in the kitchen preparing a meal, he had seemed to appreciate and even prefer 'home' cooking. She paused thoughtfully, wondering what lifestyle he and Janice would adopt together. She decided it would certainly be much different from what he was accustomed to at present.

Forcing her mind away from thoughts of Jack and Janice and their version of domestic bliss, she said, "At least _you_ can find your way around a kitchen. Perhaps once she sees you in action, she'll take up an interest." Immediately, she regretted the reference to something she knew only because of their affair. Quickly, she looked out of the window and added, "How much longer do you think it will take to get there?"

Not noticing Samantha's disquiet, Jack shrugged. Switching conversational gears easily, he said, "At this rate, probably another fifteen or twenty minutes. We could walk there faster." As he said that, he saw an empty parking space and made a quick decision. Smoothly pulling into the spot, he said, "And that's just what we'll do," he said. "Good thing we wore our coats."

Samantha looked around to get her bearings. He was right. It would probably be only a ten minute walk. Getting out of the car, she stood and buttoned up the front of her long trench coat. She was glad for its protection against a cool autumn breeze strong enough to lift her hair off her shoulders and toss it around.

As Jack walked around the car to join her, she turned into the wind and swept the hair off her face. Holding it in one hand away from her face, she said, "I need an elastic."

"And you don't have one? You always have one," he said.

"First time I've worn this coat since I put it away for the summer. I haven't had time to restock the pockets with life's necessities."

He paused to think, then opened up the car's passenger door. Flipping open the glove compartment, he rooted around, then turned, holding up in triumph a beige, covered elastic. He slammed the door closed and passed it to her.

She recognised it as the kind she usually used, but told herself it must have been one his daughters had left. Surely he wouldn't have saved something so trivial all this time.

Smiling her thanks, she took it from him, enjoying the small tingle she felt when their fingers met. She then opened the door of the car again and slid into the seat. Minutely aware of his gaze upon her, she pulled down the visor and looked up into the mirror on its reverse, quickly pulled her hair back, and secured it firmly. When she got out, she looked up at him happily, forgetting for a moment everything but the simple pleasure of being like this. With him. "Much better," she said with a smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he answered, his eyes lingering on hers a touch longer than necessary.

She saw and recognised the flash of appreciation in his eyes before he dragged his gaze away from her. There was no doubt, she thought, that he enjoyed these moments as much as she did. She felt a deep sense of loss and sadness. So where had they gone wrong? Why was he with Janice? What had she been doing with Martin?

Jack cleared his throat, interrupting her thoughts. "We should get going."

With skittering leaves crunching beneath their feet, they began their walk towards Miquella's apartment.

-XXX-

They were within sight of Miquella's building when Jack stopped abruptly. "_Goddamnit,_" he muttered. Pulling on Samantha's arm, he brought her up against him and stepped closer to the building they were walking in front of. Moving her so that they were looking in the window of what turned out to be a pawn shop, he put his arm around her waist comfortably and said, "Don't be obvious, but who does that look like to you? Across the street and down one. Sitting on the steps of the building with the green awning."

Quickly understanding Jack's sudden and unexpectedly affectionate manner, Samantha stood with her body closely aligned to his and looked in at the jumbled contents of the window display. Falling into the role of a couple out on a casual stroll, she turned towards him more fully and put one arm under his and around his back. With her face turned as though she was looking directly at him, her lips curved in a smile as her eyes played over the opposite side of the street. "I see him. He's got a newspaper lying on his lap, right?"

Her eyes then turned to meet Jack's. Trying to ignore her body's response to being so close to him, she said, "He doesn't look like he's surveillance, but I'm not certain it's Smith, either."

"Take away the beard," Jack suggested, his arm keeping her firmly pressed against him.

Strongly suspecting that Jack was seeing only what he was hoping to see, she carefully looked again.

After an all-too-short moment, she frowned and reluctantly loosened her hold on him. Turning back towards the window, she felt his arm slip away. Missing his warmth, she gestured at something on display in the window and said, "I dunno. You could be right. But why would he be here this time of day - and where is our surveillance guy, anyways?"

That question was bothering Jack, as well. His eyes had swept the street as soon as they'd turned the corner, and though he'd seen a car that he suspected belonged to the FBI parked across from the apartment, there was no one sitting inside, and no one in view he considered a likely agent. Resisting the urge to put his arm around her while they walked, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his overcoat. "Let's go to the end of the block and see if we can spot him." He scanned the street, then nodded towards the corner up ahead. "Bottom dollar says he's in that coffee shop."

As she walked beside him, Samantha set aside the wish that his arm were still around her and instead assessed the vantage point of the location he'd mentioned. She found it wanting. Only a rookie would have chosen the spot - or a veteran who was getting slack and felt this particular job beneath him.

Several yards later, they had almost reached the coffee shop. Jack lifted a hand to indicate the door, then, because it was too hard to resist this small excuse to touch her again, he brought his arm around behind her to guide her forward. She felt right, felt as though she belonged as part of him. Longing filled him. He forced himself to drop his arm.

They spotted the fed as they walked by the shop's window on their way to the door. Young enough to look freshly shaven in spite of his supposed all-night duty, he sat at a window seat, warming his hands around a large mug of black coffee.

Now, stepping through the doorway, Jack said, "That was definitely Smith. Keep an eye on him while you call for backup." He glanced at the agent who sat nursing his cup of coffee. "I'll be right back." Noting the tightly contained anger in his voice, Samantha nodded and hung back just inside the entrance as Jack strode towards the unsuspecting agent.

As he drew near, the agent looked up at him.

"Let me see your badge," Jack growled.

The young man was too inexperienced or too cowed by Jack's demeanour to consider maintaining his cover. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled it out and opened it for Jack to see.

"Agent Stoddard," Jack said in a low voice, "you're supposed to be on duty. What the hell are you doing here, where you can't see the east side of the building you're supposed to be surveilling? How the hell do you know if the person you're protecting - or the person you're protecting her from - hasn't entered or exited?" Seeing the agent open his mouth to protest, Jack continued to speak: "And if you think _that's_ unlikely, you might be interested to know the person you're supposed to be on the alert for is reading a paper just down the street from here!"

Blood rushing to his face, the young man stood. "I'm sorry sir. I was instructed to watch the apartment building and given a description of the suspect, but...I was here all night. There was nobody... and at this time of day...I mean, it's daytime, sir...in broad daylight...no one would...I didn't think..."

"Fucking right you didn't think," Jack said between clenched teeth. Exasperated that someone this stupid had been put on duty alone, he said, "You-" He stopped himself from continuing. Knowing he had more immediate things to do, he changed track abruptly, and said, "We'll take care of things from here. Go home. I'll put you on report after we take care of getting our perpetrator arrested and ensure that our witness is safe."

As he spoke, he also decided to have the head of whoever had decided to put this particular rookie on duty with no supervision.

Turning away, he resisted the urge to hit something. With the goose chase they'd been on the day before still grating on him, he figured that at the rate things were going, he'd have a whole row of heads by week's end.

Then Samantha stepped into his line of view. Seeing the look on her face, he felt his blood pressure began to rise still further. Something else had gone wrong. "Now what?" he asked, before she could speak.

"Smith just flagged down a Yellow Cab and drove off," she told him hurriedly, her voice frustrated. "No way in hell I could stop him or chase him, so I stayed put. No point in blowing our cover if we don't have to."

In spite of his chagrin, he was glad for her quick thinking, "You did the right thing. Did you get the number?" he asked.

She nodded and gave him both the cab number and the name of the company it belonged to.

"Okay, then. You know what to do."

Lifting the phone to her ear, she quickly cancelled the backup, while Jack took his phone out to dial the cab company.

Forty-five minutes later, after first being told the wrong drop-off spot, they eventually received the correct information from the cab dispatcher. Standing at the mouth of a subway entrance, they looked at each other in frustration.

"We'll never find him now."

Staring down the subway steps, Jack said, "We'll go ask the usual questions, but you're probably right. At least there's no doubt now about whether or not he knows where Miquella is."

"And you were right about her still being his target."

He shrugged. It wasn't something he took much joy in being right about. "I've made sure they put someone who knows what they're doing with her. They're going to stick closer, too. I'll feel better if someone's right in the apartment with her."

When Samantha opened her mouth to speak, Jack held up his hand. "No. Don't even suggest it. That's the last thing you need to be doing. I need you available. At least until Danny and Martin get back."

Samantha looked at him, her head tilted to one side. "You're trying to read my mind again. How do you know I wasn't just going to suggest it was time for lunch?" she asked, a smile gently curving her lips.

"Because I know you and how much you love to get directly involved. But not this time," Jack said. He didn't add his regret that their days of having lunch were long over. Changing the subject he asked, "Do you know when Martin and Danny plan to get back today?"

Samantha shook her head. "They may have left a message at the office."

Waving at the subway steps with his hand, Jack said, "We'll find out after we interview the ticket vendors. And the cabbie. After that, we'll head back to the office, pick up our messages, and talk to Terry."

-XXX-

Three hours later, they were back at the office. Terry had been there waiting for them, and the three had spoken at some length.

"You're sure he didn't leave because he knew who you were?" Terry asked.

Jack shook his head. "No way. We were in the shop a few minutes before he decided to leave."

Samantha supported Jack's opinion. "He didn't leave in a hurry, either. He stood up, looked up at the building and then at his watch, and then waited for a cab to go by. He flagged it down, and got in. The taxi didn't take off in a particular hurry, so I really think he'd just waited as long as he felt he needed to."

"So why did he leave?" Terry asked.

Jack and Samantha looked at each other, at a loss.

"Perhaps he needed to go to work? Not," Samantha added, "that I've been able to figure out where his work is."

"Knowing where he works isn't all that critical any more. Sooner or later, he's going to make a move on Miquella, and so long as we keep our eye on her, we'll find him," Terry said confidently.

Jack's phone rang. Lifting it up, he listened a few minutes, then said, "Sure, come up and get them."

Putting the receiver down, he told Terry, "That was Janice. She's misplaced her keys. She's coming up for mine."

Rising, Terry offered, "I'm heading out now. I can give them to her for you."

Smiling at Terry's poorly disguised eagerness, Jack reached into his pocket and drew his key ring out. Removing a key, he passed it over to him. "Tell her I'll be a little late, so if she's home tonight, she needn't worry about food or anything. I want to catch up on some stuff here."

Terry flipped the key into the air and caught it. Nodding, he said, "Will do," and headed for the door.

Having discreetly given Terry and Janice the opportunity to spend some time alone - providing Terry was smart enough to take advantage of it - Jack turned to Samantha and said, "You may be able to leave at a decent hour today, too. If you're finished, head out and take advantage of it."

"Anything I can do? Maybe I can help you get out earlier, too," she offered.

Jack shook his head. "Thanks, but it's just paperwork and some filing I need to catch up on. It shouldn't take me too long."

Samantha nodded and rose. On the way to the bullpen, she noticed two figures standing in front of the elevators. She stopped abruptly. It was Terry and Janice. Something about the way they stood together made her instinctively move slightly towards the wall so as not to be so noticeable. Silently, she watched them.

They were speaking animatedly. Janice gestured with her hand, then placed it on Terry's arm and laughed. She leaned forward slightly. The intimacy of that action and her expression made Samantha's heart slow. Terry then covered Janice's hand with his own large one, and they stood looking at one another a long moment. When he moved and released her hand, she lifted it to touch his cheek, then said something that made Terry smile down at her. A chill went down Samantha's spine when he put his arm around the small woman's shoulders. It wasn't, she thought, a brotherly gesture. In fact, nothing she had seen had said 'just friends' - it had screamed something else entirely. There was a_ ping_, and then the elevator doors swooped open. The two stepped inside and the doors closed, quickly hiding them from sight.

_Oh, God... _Samantha thought.

She turned to look in the direction of Jack's office. He obviously had no idea..

She turned back to look at the elevators. _What would a betrayal like this do to him? _

End Chapter 24


	25. Chapter 25

Here it is. Finally. Not the dance, but all that leads up to it. Sorry for the long delay. If you've been sticking to this throughout, you deserve a medal for patience and stamina! You certainly have my thanks and appreciation. Thanks to Diane for the excellent beta-ing, and to Justine for her bang-on commentary! Happy New Year!

**Too** **Good To Be True  
**By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 25**

Samantha walked to her desk on shaky knees. She sat down, picked up a pen and began tapping it in a staccato rhythm that counter-pointed her chaotic thoughts. What the hell was she going to do with what she had just seen?

Ten minutes later, she was still sitting there, still tapping the pen, and was still no closer to knowing. Replaying what she had seen in her mind over and over, she knew her interpretation was correct. There was much more between Terry and Janice than friendship. Her gut clenched at the thought that they could do something like that to Jack. For the first time in a long while, she had thought that perhaps he was happy; and that Janice was the one that had made him so. What would it do to him when he found out that the people he trusted most had betrayed him? Should she be the one to tell him? What if-

A gruff voice interrupted her reverie.

"What are you doing here? I thought I told you to go home."

Samantha jumped nervously and turned to look up at Jack's tired face. Not wanting him to see her disquiet, she glanced back at her desk and attempted to control her features. "I'm almost ready. There were just a couple things I wanted to clear up," she explained.

She felt his gaze on her, knew that if she turned, his expression would be curious, his eyes turned dark and questioning. He would have sensed, in that disturbing way of his, that something was wrong.

"So you're on the way out now?" he insisted gently.

She knew he was quietly willing her to turn and look at him. Resisting, she put away a file into a desk drawer, put her pen in her pen holder, and then got her keys and her bag out of a bottom drawer on her left. "I guess so. I'll finish up tomorrow," she said, still not turning his way. Desperate to avoid questions she would need to lie her way past, she rose, then glanced at him quickly. "So - I guess I'm on the way out. Don't you stay too late!"

Her light tone sounded forced, even to her own ears.

Jack tilted his head slightly to one side and continued to stare at her. His thoughtful expression told her he knew something was amiss. She stiffened when he began to speak, then relaxed when he only asked, "You meeting Martin at the airport?"

She knew she wouldn't be, but shrugged and said, "I'm not sure. I'll have to see."

He frowned, obviously surprised at her answer, but before he could say more, she turned, threw a 'see you in the morning' over her shoulder, and made a cowardly exit.

She felt his eyes on her back all the way to the elevators.

-XXX-

It was close to midnight when Jack arrived home. Surprised to see lights on in the kitchen, he walked towards the door and stopped when he saw Janice sitting at the table with a cup of coffee cradled between her hands. Something in the way she held herself made him take a deep breath before entering the room.

"Hey," he said in a quiet voice. "I didn't expect to find you here."

She looked up at him with shadowed eyes. She looked tired. And unhappy.

"What's up?" he asked, pulling out, and then sliding onto, the kitchen chair opposite hers.

When she said nothing and looked down at her coffee cup, his brow creased. The change in her since he had spoken to her last was disconcerting. Guessing it had something to do with Terry, he urged, "Come on, spill it."

She raised her eyes to meet his. "I've got a problem."

"Oh?"

"You already know what it is."

He held her gaze. "Maybe. My guess is it has something to do with Terry."

"You're a credit to the FBI," she said.

Jack frowned slightly. "I thought you two were getting along fine. Better than fine, to be honest. I didn't even expect you home tonight." Though his expression remained somber, his eyes glinted with gentle humour. "I mean, even as slow as Terry is, I'd have expected him to make his move by now!"

Acknowledging his attempt to lighten the mood, she tried to smile, but failed. "He did, and I wouldn't be here if I weren't such an idiot."

"So what happened?"

"I like him too much, Jack."

"And liking him is a problem because-?"

"You know my track record."

He shrugged. "So you've picked some losers and some it-didn't-quite-work-outs in your time. We all do, remember? It's not the end of the world. No one would get anywhere if they tried, failed, and then gave up."

She nodded and turned her eyes back towards her coffee mug. "What if I'm not what he needs? What if something goes wrong?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You're looking for a relationship with a guarantee?"

"Yes. No. I- " She made a helpless gesture with one hand. "-I worry about who would be hurt the most when it all goes to hell-" She stopped abruptly, and bit her lower lip.

His expression serious, Jack thought a moment, then said, "Janice, when you first arrived, you thought you'd fallen in love with the man you married - but that was only after he'd begun an affair with someone else. What was that all about?"

She looked at him, her eyes dark. "That's off topic, and you're trying to psychoanalyse me. Stop it."

"No. It's not and I'm not," Jack replied. "I just want you to think about it." He lapsed into silence and regarded her steadily.

She looked away and remained silent for a long moment. Then, in a voice so weary it almost hurt him to hear it, she said, "Because I wanted to love him. I should have loved him." Turning wounded eyes to meet his, she said, "And he should have still loved me." She lifted a hand, then let it drop back to the table. "I'm tired, Jack. Tired of trying, and then forgetting to try because I've got caught up in life, and then finding out I've lost whatever it was that I had. I'm afraid of going through it all over again with someone else."

He sat back in his chair and searched for a simple answer for a complicated problem. "So stop trying," he finally said. "Let things go as they go. Enjoy it for what it is now, and don't worry about the future. Terry is a good man. He deserves to be happy. So do you."

"But it's not going to last; I've proved it how many times now?"

"Four," Jack replied, "But who's counting? Maybe five's your lucky number - if you stop worrying about where you're headed and concentrate on where you are, instead." He knew she'd have plenty to sort out - her divorce from Charles, her career, and all the rest of it. Still, he held out hope that they would make a go of it in some shape or form.

Watching her as she considered what he'd said, he added, "If you think about this too much, you might ruin it, Janice. Look at how Terry feels about you. Look at how you feel about him. You can't erase past mistakes and disappointments, but you can give yourself a chance to be happy now. Why not just let yourself take it?"

She looked down, examining her thumbs as they rubbed the rim of her coffee mug. Her brow crinkled in a thoughtful frown, she remained silent a long moment. When she finally lifted her eyes to meet his, Jack knew that something of what he'd said had got through.

"Hell, maybe you're right," she said softly. "It seems I either don't think at all, or I think too much."

Jack saw the hope in her eyes and relaxed, though he kept his expression suitably serious. "This time, you're definitely thinking too much. Personally, I think that if you're going to think about anything, you should think about me," he said, his face still serious, his tone deadly earnest. "Because if you don't do something with Terry, I'm going to go crazy. He's like an over-sized Great Dane puppy where you're concerned. He slobbers all over the place. It's sickening. And messy. You need to put him out of his misery. Hell, I'd take it as a personal favour if you did."

Janice looked up at him sharply when his words began to sink in. Seeing the glint of humour dancing in his eyes, she felt tension ease from her and smiled for the first time since he'd entered the room. Tilting her head to one side, she regarded him warmly. "Perhaps I will, then. Only to help you out, of course." Her voice softened. "Thank you, Jack. You have a way of making things look easier. I do love you, you know."

Jack grinned. "Hey, what's not to love?" He sobered, and added, "Stop being frightened, and stop thinking you have to do things a certain way. You two would be good together; you just have to think outside the box."

Janice rose, and he could see that her mind was already elsewhere. "I guess I'll give him a ring, then," she said.

Jack looked puzzled, then his expression cleared. She wasn't talking about jewelry. Pondering the intricacies of friends who spoke a different English, Jack rose as well. "You do that. Tell him I said 'hi'. I'm going to hit the sack now." He leaned towards her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Good night. Don't stay up too long."

She smiled fondly at his retreating back. "Yes, Papa."

-XXX-

The next morning, Samantha arrived to find Jack already at his desk. Standing in his doorway to say good morning, she noted that the pile of files that had been accumulating for several weeks on the office floor was gone.

Pushing the memory of the betrayal she'd witnessed the night before aside, she commented, "I see you got your filing done."

Jack looked up, his lips curved in a smile. Obviously in a good mood, he told her, "I'd have made someone a wonderful secretary."

Samantha stepped into his office and wondered if she's have the guts to tell him what she'd seen. "Bull," she said with a very unladylike snort. "Look at how long it took you to get around to the filing!" Her eyes surveying him closely, she changed topic and asked, "Any word from surveillance?"

Jack shook his head. "Nope. All's quiet there. And nothing new's come in, so we can continue to concentrate on Smith. Danny phoned in just a minute ago and said he'd be here by 9:30. Did Martin say when he'd be in?"

He'd expected him and Samantha to arrive together.

Samantha stilled, then admitted, "I haven't talked to him since he got back."

Jack looked at her, surprised.

"Oh."

The single word reverberated in the air between them, begging for an explanation. She felt him look at her. Trying to maintain a casual air, she met his eyes and smiled faintly. Refusing to respond to his unspoken question, she said, "I expect he'll get in around the same time as Danny. He'll want to know what's going on, too."

Even to herself, her voice sounded stilted.

Wondering what the hell was going on there, Jack nodded.

"I've been thinking it might be a good idea to look at Miquella's phone records," he said, still regarding her closely. "She hasn't mentioned having any unusual calls, but I'm wondering if maybe we might pick up something interesting if we look."

Samantha backed towards the door. "I'll work on that until the boys get in," she said hastily.

"Thanks," Jack said as she made a quick exit.

He eyed the door thoughtfully for a long moment after she was gone. Everything about the exchange that had just taken place felt wrong, but he couldn't put a finger on why. Finally, he picked up a pen, set aside his questions, and got down to doing some paperwork.

-XXX-

An hour later, Jack paused in the middle of a sentence he was writing. Not looking up, he said, "Samantha, if there's something you need to say to me, why not just say it?"

He'd called her back into his office so that he could clear up some of the ongoing paperwork involved in the Smith case. Asking her to bring in any of the files that had accumulated in the bullpen area, they had settled in - he in his chair, she in the one opposite it - to set things in order for distribution and filing.

A chill running through her, Samantha stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

Putting his pen down, he finally looked up at her. "You've been acting very strangely. It's disconcerting. What's wrong? Is there something you want to talk about?"

She stared at him, obviously uncomfortable.

"I'm fine," she finally said, making it clear she was not going to discuss whatever it was that was on her mind. "I'm just hoping that we've got everything here, that's all. We'll have to remember to check with Danny and Martin that there aren't any other reports we've forgotten."

He nodded, unconvinced. Pointless to press matters further, though.

His phone ringing saved them from more conversation. While he spoke on the telephone, she mimed her excuses and returned to work at her desk.

-XXX-

Martin and Danny arrived at the bullpen at the same time. When Martin went to his chair without saying anything in greeting, Samantha remarked, "You're back."

"Yeah, I am," he replied. His eyes asked why she had not called or met him, or been waiting at the apartment for him. Asked, but already knew the answer. Her absence, even more than his decision to go to the blasted wedding alone, had bore witness to the unspoken end of their relationship.

Danny smiled. "Aw, she missed us." His whole body crackled with energy as he walked over to his desk, sat down, and then swung it around to face the other two. "You don't know what you missed, Samantha. Houston was great. Not that we saw much of it, but it's always nice to get away once in a while."

Samantha smiled. "Why does everyone think they need to make me feel guilty about not liking Houston?"

"I don't want you to feel guilty. I just want you to see the error of your thinking," Danny grinned. Glancing over at Martin, who remained silent, he turned his gaze back to Samantha and asked, "What's up here?"

"Jack will be out soon. We don't have anything new - or didn't as of thirty minutes ago," she said.

Just as she finished speaking, Jack appeared. "Vivian not here yet?"

"Right behind you," a voice said.

Jack turned, a smile lighting his face. "Welcome back!"

Vivian smiled up at him. "Thank you. It's good to be back." She paused. "I think."

She hung her jacket on the back of her chair, then walked over and slid onto a chair at the bullpen table. "What did I miss?"

As the others moved to follow her to the table, Jack began to fill the three of them in on what had passed during the last couple of days.

"We caught sight of Smith outside Miquella's apartment, so we know he knows Miquella's location. He's grown a beard in the past couple of weeks, so he's being careful."

"Does he know we've seen him?"

"No. And we've got round-the-clock surveillance on Miquella now. He'll show up at some point."

"She keeping to a regular routine?" Danny asked, wondering how that would be managed, considering her choice ofemployment.

"Sort of. We've had her go to an employment office to make things look as though she's trying to go legit. It helps explain why she's not out looking for johns on the street."

Jack was interrupted by the phone in his office ringing. Excusing himself, he went to answer it. He was gone quite some time. When he returned, his team knew that something had happened.

"Well?" Vivian asked.

Jack raised his hands, palm up. "It's over," he told them. "They've got Smith. He showed up exactly where we saw him the other day, and NYPD picked him up on murder charges. He's lawyered up, and we're to close our files."

The team looked at each other in shock.

"So it's out of our hands, now." Samantha finally said, her voice showing her surprise.

Jack nodded. "Yeah, it is."

They all sat in silence, wrapped in an eerie sense of anti-climax. It was always this way, when they'd invested time and effort into a case and it came to a sudden end.

"Terry will be pleased," Vivian offered into the silence.

"Yeah, he will be," Jack agreed. He wondered if the NYPD had thought to contact him, and decided to give him a call soon, just to make sure.

"I'd have liked to have been there when they nabbed him," Danny said.

They all nodded in agreement. One of them being there would have brought a better sense of closure.

Danny sighed. Looking around the table at the others, he drawled, "Well, I guess that means I'll have time to order my tux for Saturday."

His words brought life to the group. Vivian smiled. "You mean you haven't already?"

The others stirred, welcoming the opportunity to shake off the sense of displacement the abrupt end to their investigation had brought them.

"I'm looking forward to the big event," Martin said, certain that although he and Samantha were on the outs, they would go together. Who knew? Perhaps they'd be able to straighten things out between them. At the very least, he was sure to meet up with people he knew, and that would be nice.

"Me, too," Vivian said.

"Ah," Jack teased, "so that's why you came back."

"Guilty as charged, "she smiled.

Jack rose. "Well, we might as well get our day started. Samantha, I need your report on yesterday; Danny, Martin, get your trip written up and your receipts in order. We were organising the paperwork on this case just this morning. The faster you hand everything in, the faster we can file it alway now. Vivian, find something to keep yourself busy. I noticed there's a pile of mail waiting for you."

His words elicited a flurry of activity as the team went to their desks to take care of their assignments.

-XXX-

Terry arrived several hours later.

Collapsing into a chair, he leaned back and drawled, "Another case successfully closed. We do good work, you know that?"

_"We?"_ Jack asked. "I'm still trying to figure out what you've been doing the last few weeks. Besides, of course, the excellent work you did in charming a certain very wonderful woman!"

Terry grinned. "Hey, I was multi-tasking. It's a talent." His grin slid off his face. "I'm glad we got him."

"There's enough solid evidence to hold him?"

Terry nodded "Oh, I think so."

"Good."

They spent a brief moment enjoying the satisfaction of knowing they'd played an important role in 'putting away a bad guy'. Then, his eyes narrowed, Terry looked over at Jack. When he began to speak, Jack immediately braced himself for whatever was about to come out of his friend's mouth.

"Looking forward to the dance on Saturday?" he asked in a casual tone.

Jack nodded warily. "Yeah, I guess so. It'll be nice to have the whole team out for an evening. It doesn't happen often."

"Good. I was worried you'd try to weasel your way out somehow."

"Why would I do that?"

Terry looked at his friend with satisfaction. Good. He had no idea whatsoever what Janice was hoping.

Smiling, he answered. "I dunno. Just a thought. Glad to hear you're looking forward to it, though."

Looking at him doubtfully, Jack nodded. "Okay."

"I really wish I could be here for it. They couldn't have timed that damned conference for a worse time of year."

"You'll love every minute of it," Jack scoffed, knowing Terry was slated as a guest speaker. "I know how you like to stand up in front of people and show off what you know."

Terry's teeth glinted as he grinned. "Yeah, there is that, I suppose. And I gotta admit I talk a hell of a lot better than I dance."

Jack grunted. "Wait 'til Janice really gets to you, then. You're in big trouble, boy."

Terry's grin did not dim. "Yeah," he answered, happily._But not half the trouble _you're_ going to be in soon._

Jack frowned, wondering what on Earth was making Terry so amused.

End

Chapter 25  
FINALLY!


	26. Chapter 26

Hey! Here it finally is. Kinda. Not exactly what everyone's waiting for, but at least it's the beginning. Thank you again for your patience. I have no idea who all's reading this, but if it's something you're enjoying, then I'm glad. To those of of you who take the time to say 'I read it and liked it': THANK YOU! You make my day!

**Too Good To Be True  
**By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 26**

Terry had been sitting in Jack's office for about thirty minutes when a knock on the door announced Janice's unexpected arrival.

Jack rose and walked towards her. "This is a surprise!" he said, as they kissed each other on the cheek. "What brings you here?" He resisted the urge to slide a knowing glance in Terry's direction.

Janice smiled. "I thought I'd drop by on the off-chance you're available for lunch." Looking over at Terry, she added, "And I suppose your sidekick is welcome to come, too."

Terry raised an eyebrow, his eyes obviously enjoying looking at her. In a not-terribly-authentic Texan drawl, he said, "Why thank you, ma'am… Ah'd be plum honoured."

Jack looked on, enjoying seeing the two of them happy. Whatever had been said on the phone last night had obviously been of a positive nature.

"Why don't you two go without me?" he suggested.

Both turned towards him to protest.

"Nah. Come. Who will I make the butt of my jokes if you're not with us?" Terry asked with a grin.

"And I want to talk to you about Saturday," Janice said. She looked at Terry with a warm smile and gestured. "If you're worried about our not seeing one another enough, fear not. We're going out this evening and I'm taking him to the airport tomorrow. And he thinks he'll be back in New York soon. We'll have plenty of time," she said confidently.

Jack looked at the two of them. Janice was glowing, and Terry looked like the cat who had swallowed the cream. Obviously the phone call had done more than he could have hoped; both of them looked and sounded remarkably sure of themselves. Knowing better than to comment, however, he frowned and turned towards Terry. "You're leaving tomorrow?"

"I've got the last flight out."

"But I assume you'll be back in town as soon as you can drum up an excuse."

Terry inclined his head and grinned. "You assume correctly. Not that I have to look hard for an excuse. You know I'm in town pretty often, anyways. New York: Murder Central," he said, gesturing with his hands. "There's always the chance one of them is part of a series. Ya gotta love it."

Jack grunted. Thinking about the time, he said, "If we're going to eat, we should probably go soon." Looking at Janice, he asked, "Do you have any particular place in mind?"

Before she could reply, Terry glanced at his watch and said, "Damn. I have someone I need to talk to before I go anywhere." He looked at his two friends and suggested, "Why don't you tell me where you're going, and I'll meet you there?"

Jack's phone prevented him from responding. Answering its shrill ring, he listened a moment, then said, "One moment, please," and covered the receiver. "I have to take this. Janice, why don't you walk Terry to the elevator and tell him where to meet us? By the time you're back, I should be finished here, okay?"

Janice smiled. "Righto."

Terry rose and waved for Janice to precede him out the door. Watching them go, Jack allowed himself a brief second of satisfaction before turning his thoughts back to his caller.

At the elevator, Terry pushed the 'down' button and then turned to Janice. "So, everything's all set?"

"All set?" she asked.

"Yeah. You know: Operation: Romance."

She grinned. "I believe so. It's hard to say. At least I'm putting him in a situation where maybe they'll have the chance to talk. God knows why the silly woman hasn't made a move on him; but knowing Jack, I suppose he's been falling all over himself proving that he doesn't still care. And _she_ may have decided that if they started anything again, it would get Jack in too much trouble because of the supervisory agent thing."

"A small hurdle that doesn't worry you at all, of course," Terry observed dryly.

"Not at all," she agreed. "I can understand the reasons behind the rule, but it can't _always _apply, can it? And if it does, they'll simply have to figure out what to do about it once they're back together again. Remember: my job is simply to get Jack back with the woman he loves," Janice said firmly. "It'll be _their _job to sort out what happens next!" She paused, then looked up at him and said a little wistfully, "But I wish you could be there, too."

Terry nodded. "It would be fun, but I can't see it happening. Not this time. Duty calls, and all that." He smiled at her fondly. Reaching over, he moved a strand of hair off her brow. "I'll miss you, and all your machinations."

She laughed. "Is this the pot calling the kettle black? It's your insistance that Samantha is the right one for him that got us to this point, you know." Her smile faltered and she looked into his eyes. Changing topic completely, she admitted, "I can't believe- I mean- " She sighed and gestured with her hands. "I'm still adjusting to this. I hate that you're going away so soon. But I'm very glad we have until tomorrow."

A long finger touched her lightly on the end of her nose. "Me, too."

"Funny how it took Jack fifteen minutes of conversation to make me see sense, and we have to try so hard to get his life straightened out," she noted.

"I think the dance will do it," Terry said confidently. "He needs to see Samantha out of context and in a relaxed atmosphere. And he needs to figure out for himself that maybe, just maybe, all is not well with her and Martin." He smiled. "Holding her in his arms will help, too. Once he's done that," he assured her, "he's a gonner."

She smiled. "You didn't need that with me."

"I'm not Jack."

She lifted a hand to touch his cheek. "No, you're certainly not. But I like you anyways."

"Thank God."

They stared at one another, grinning foolishly.

The elevator door chimed open but Terry ignored it, and after a pause, it closed with a sigh and continued on its way. Terry waited a beat, then pushed the 'down' button again.

"I very much want to see Jack happy before I go," she said.

"So that leaves you a few more weeks, if this doesn't work."

"It had better work; I don't know what else I could try, short of hitting him over the head with something hard," she said. "I don't understand why it's so difficult to get him to where he's happy. That's all I'm asking for; it shouldn't be too much to ask."

"He'll be happy with Samantha. He needs her," Terry said. "I think they need each other."

"You're sure?" she asked.

He looked at her, wondering at this sudden hint of doubt. "I'm as sure as I can be. Nothing in life's guaranteed," he reminded her, unwittingly echoing Jack's earlier words, "but I do know that what I've seen between them is pretty impressive." He shrugged his shoulders and smiled at her, his hazel eyes gleaming. "Nothing compared to _us_, mind you, but it looked good."

She smiled. She felt like a teenager, and wished she could reach up and put her arms around his neck. Knowing that now was neither the time nor the place, however, she merely rested a hand on his plaid-shirted chest. "Will you be busy after lunch?" she asked.

"That, my dear, depends upon you."

They both smiled, loving that they were on the same wavelength. The evening was too far away.

They were both reluctant to part, and may have stood there for some time more, but the elevator door _pinged _open again, and so Terry reluctantly saluted a 'so long' and stepped inside the waiting car. Holding the door, he impulsively leaned out and kissed her quickly on the lips, before stepping inside and pressing the button for the twelfth floor.

They smiled at one another until the elevator doors began to slide closed. Then Terry started, and thrust his hands out to stop them once again. "Where are we doing lunch?" he asked.

Janice laughed. "_Malinche's_. I really liked it there."

Terry nodded. Letting his arm drop, he stepped back. "See you there."

Finally, the doors closed.

Neither noticed that a pair of very concerned eyes had watched them. For the second time.

-XXX-

Fighting the urge to waylay her and give her a piece of her mind, Samantha watched Janice return to Jack's office. A few minutes later, she watched as the other woman left with Jack, smiling up at him as though everything in life were perfect.

When she saw the fondness in Jack's eyes when he looked at Janice, Samantha closed her own. She was going to have to tell him. She didn't know what he had planned for the future with that woman, but she had to stop him from getting terribly hurt.

-XXX-

Jack pulled at his bowtie for the twelfth time and, with a snort of disgust, decided to give up. Making a face at himself in the bathroom mirror, he yelled, "_Ja-nice_!"

Janice appeared within seconds. Looking absolutely stunning in a floor-length, dark hunter green off-the-shoulder creation by some designer Jack had already forgotten the name of, she stood at the bathroom door with a hand on one hip. Regarding him with a smile, her eyes glittered as brightly as the cascade of jewels hanging around her slender neck. She was obviously aware of, and amused by, his dilemma. "Still haven't managed it?" she asked.

Jack didn't turn around. Eying her in the mirror, he protested, "It's defective!" To demonstrate, he mangled the length of silk and then let the two ends flop onto his chest. "I've never had this problem before," he groused.

"You're a bloody liar," she accused amicably. Stepping towards him, she took him by the shoulders and turned him around to face her. "Remember the Governor's Ball you escorted me to in '93? You couldn't tie a bowtie then, either."

Jack grunted. "I was young and nervous back then."

Busy manipulating the recalcitrant piece of material into a perfect bow, Janice didn't respond. Finally, she stood back, her faint frown of concentration fading as she viewed her handiwork. She nodded in satisfaction. "Perfect. Sometimes I forget just how good I am!" she said, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled. Tapping him lightly on his shoulder, she said, "Now, if you'll excuse me, love, I'd like to finish getting myself ready…unless," she added saucily, "you need help with tying your shoes, as well…?"

"Watch it," he growled.

"No? Then I'll leave you to admire yourself in the looking glass," she said with a grin. Gathering her skirts around her, she waltzed out of the bathroom.

He shook his head at her high spirits. She'd been giddy since she and Terry had finally sorted things out. They'd spent every minute of Terry's last twenty-four hours in New York together, and he knew she was eagerly awaiting his return. Waiting until she disappeared from view, he turned to examine the results of her efforts. She'd done a good job. Smoothing the front of his starched shirt, he decided he looked passable. Almost good, even. Touching the grey at his temples, he wondered if he should try the Grecian Formula thing, then smiled at the conceit. The world would have to take him just the way he was.

He turned away from his reflection and headed towards his bedroom, his mind on the evening in front of him. He was looking forward to it, though he expected that there would be parts of it that would be difficult for him. A significant part of that difficulty would be in watching Samantha with Martin. He knew that they were likely good together, and had prided himself on his adjustment to their being together… but he couldn't help but feel sad for what he had lost. He sighed. Life would go on, and he would survive.

Taking his tuxedo jacket off its hanger, he caught sight of the time on his bedside table's clock. Time to go.

-XXX-

The hotel was awash with beautifully gowned women and their tuxedoed escorts. Yellow light from the crystal chandeliers overhead cast a golden glow on everything and everyone, mellowing mood and atmosphere. Music wafted on air carrying the heavy scent of flowers used to decorate every available tabletop and pillar.

"They've done the place up beautifully!" Janice exclaimed. Looking about for someone to take her wrap, she smiled as she handed it over to an attendant. Jack collected the receipt ticket and placed it in his pocket…

…Only to look up and find that Janice had already moved part way across the floor and was greeting someone he recognised only by having often seen their picture in the newspapers. He sighed as she turned and gestured for him to join them. She was on the job already.

-XXX-

With Janice apparently needing to speak with everyone she passed, it took them almost thirty minutes to reach the dining room, and another ten to reach their table. By that point, Jack had been introduced and spoken to more 'names', as his father called them, than he had in the past two years. Janice, of course, had felt comfortable with all of them, and that comfort had spread to him. Surprised, he realized he was enjoying himself.

Or was until he saw who waited for them at the table.

Samantha and Martin stood together beside one of the beautifully clothed and decorated dinner tables, chatting with another couple Jack didn't recognise. Martin was dressed in a perfectly tailored tuxedo that Jack guessed was his own. What he truly concentrated on, however, was Samantha. He had always liked her in black and had thought that just about any colour suited her, but tonight, she took his breath away. She wore a strapless gown in a brilliant red. Dense red beadwork, with touches of gold and black, crafted a pattern across the bodice and down to her waist, where her gown began to soften until, by the time the skirt came to her ankles, the beadwork was finished, and only gauzy, light-as-the-air material brushed her slender ankles.

Golden chandelier earrings swinging, she turned, as though sensing his gaze, and stopped mid-laugh.

Martin, noticing her glance, followed it. His mouth tightened when he saw the man who had made her falter. The tuxedo transformed his boss into a casually urbane-looking gentleman, not at all in keeping with his generally rather ordinary black-suited appearance. It was the look in Jack's eyes as he gazed at the woman who stood staring back at him, however, that made Martin clear his throat in irritation.

As Jack and Samantha silently continued to concentrate on one another, Martin's growing ire with Samantha's reaction went unnoticed.

Except, of course, by Janice. Amused, she tapped Jack on the arm. "This is our table," she said. "Is there any particular place you want to sit? They did a lovely job on the flower arrangements, don't you think?"

Jack turned to her, his eyes still vague. "Yes. Lovely." Looking as though he were just bringing his head out of water to catch his breath, he focussed on her words and added, "Anywhere's fine." Then, recovering enough to mind his manners, he nodded a greeting to Martin and Samantha. "Good to see you here," he said.

"Thanks," Martin replied. His smile not quite reaching his eyes, he nodded briefly at Janice, then turned back to the couple with him.

Trying to keep his eyes off Samantha, Jack made small talk with Janice. Finally, he looked at his watch and said, "I'm surprised Vivian and Marcus aren't here yet."

Turning from saying goodbye to his friends, Martin pulled out a chair for Samantha, and then said, "They said they'd be here by the time the appetizers are served. Marcus was running late."

"What about Danny? Has he arrived?"

Her eyes still taking in Jack's appearance, Samantha nodded. Finding her voice, she said, "He stopped by with his date – he brought Katie. Mason, I think her last name is. Do you remember her? She was involved in the Mason case - it was her mother who was arrested for that kidnapping affair." She smiled. "I've spoken to her a few times since then, and she seems very nice. Danny is very taken with her, I think. Maybe we should raz him a bit on Monday. This could be something serious!" Realising she wasn't really answering the question, she finished by saying, "Anyways, they went off to say hello to some people she knows."

She looked down at her hands nervously. She was used to seeing Jack in dark suits, but seeing him in a perfectly cut tuxedo was a whole different thing. He exuded a solid sense of maleness, and the look in his eye when he regarded her...it took her breath away, and made her think thoughts that made her insides tremble.

Jack nodded. He remembered Katie and the case - and remembered that Danny had known her from his high school days. They'd been close then; perhaps they were close again. While he made a mental note to pay attention to them tonight in order to find out, a young woman walked to a microphone and requested that people please make their way to their tables; dinner was soon to begin.

Settling into her chair, Samantha kept her eyes averted from Jack and eyed Janice, instead. The woman looked elegant and beautiful, and very, very happy. Too happy, considering what she was doing behind Jack's back, she thought fiercely. Jack had been away at meetings all day on Friday, so she hadn't had the opportunity to speak with him. She wondered if she could wrangle the opportunity to do so tonight. Providing, of course, she got up the courage to say something.

Her eyes drifted towards Jack. When their eyes collided, she felt her knees weaken and her pulse quicken.

She wondered if he would remember their earlier conversation and ask her to dance…

And sent a little prayer up that he did.

End  
Chapter 26


	27. Chapter 27

Okay, I'm going to say here what I should have said in the beginning of chapter 26: Katie Mason is an OC created by **anmodo**. You'll find her in anmodo's wonderful series, _Never Look Back 4, _ a Danny-centric but J/S friendly story that is parallelling the series with a Danny perspective. I've totally enjoyed it, and Katie sparked my imagination as the perfect person for Danny to take to the dance. In fact, I can't imagine him taking anyone else! Many thanks to her for the permission to 'borrow' Katie for a few scenes!

And thanks for those reviews. Wow. I've never had so many for one chapter! What a treat! Everyone at YTDAW: thanks for the butt-kicking. It does kinda get my focus to where it should be! Here's hoping y'all enjoy this chapter too...

**Too Good To Be True**  
by: Mariel

**

* * *

Chapter 27**

Shortly after the announcement was made requesting everyone to please find their tables, Danny returned with Katie. He introduced her almost shyly, the attentive manner he displayed towards her making Jack regard her closely. When he saw the look in Danny's eyes as he returned Katie's gazes, he jumped to a conclusion he was sure was correct. Here was someone Danny had invested a lot of emotional trust in. Neither upset not surprised that Danny was choosing to keep it confidential for the time being, he waited for everyone to settle before saying, "It's nice to see you again, Katie."

The young woman smiled at him, then looked at Danny. "It's nice to be invited." She tilted her head to one side, and added, "And the circumstances are certainly more pleasant than the last time we met."

Jack nodded, impressed that she was not shy about mentioning the case that had seen both her parents put in jail. Trying to put her at ease, he changed to course of the conversation, and commented: "Martin and Samantha mentioned you know some people here tonight."

She nodded. Smoothing the folds of her dark blue skirt, she said, "Yes." Looking around, she added, "It's been a while since I've been to something like this, but it's always fun. My mother used to do some work with the Children's Hospital Charitable Foundation, so I've been to a few of these. Victoria always does such a great job."

At this, Jack's eyes widened. He looked over at Samantha, who also had a look of surprise on her face.

"You know Victoria Newbury?" Jack asked.

Catching Samantha's eye after Katie nodded yes, Jack again thought what a small city New York was. When you travelled in certain circles, anyway.

Before Jack could ask more, Vivian and Marcus arrived. Vivian looked elegantly confident in a flattering black creation that fit her to perfection. Long, delicate, filigree earrings in burnished silver hung from each earlobe. Matching accessories graced her throat and wrist.

Putting her small silver handbag on the table, she looked around at the people gathered in front of her with a pleased expression. "We're all here!" she exclaimed. Giving everyone another once-over, she added, "And looking damned fine, too!" Sliding onto the chair Marcus held out for her, she turned to Jack and smiled, "We should do this more often."

Jack smiled back. "What? You like this, but not the idea of our all getting together for some bowling?"

Vivian laughed at the old joke. "What? And have to listen about your trophies? I don't think so!"

Jack grinned. "You're just jealous."

_Sitting beside Jack, Janice watched with enjoyment as comfortable banter was tossed around the table. Tonight, everyone seemed determined to relax and have a good time. She settled back to better enjoy watching the group dynamics of people who were such an important part of Jack's life..._

_Martin, she noticed, seemed somewhat aloof with Samantha, as though holding her at arm's length. When a couple of young women presented themselves at the table to speak to him, Martin was more than sociable. And though he presented them to the group as 'friends of the family', he allowed them to elicit a cheerful promise from him to join them later at their table. Samantha was not included in the invitation. __Janice watched both Martin's and Samantha's reaction carefully, and decided that neither of them had expected or wanted one. Janice's eyebrow rose as a hopeful realisation dawned: perhaps they were already not a couple. If that were so, she thought, all the better for the renewal of Jack's relationship with Samantha._

_Danny seemed on top of the world. His arm casually draped over the back of Katie's chair, he joked with Vivian's husband, absentmindedly touching Katie's shoulders occasionally with his fingertips. Except for a couple of concerned looks thrown in Martin's direction that Janice couldn't decipher, he seemed content to be where he was and with the people he was with._

_Vivian, Janice noted, was definitely a den mother with a touch of spice. She, of all the others, seemed most aware of the undercurrents playing around the table. Several shrewd glances directed towards Jack and Samantha told Janice the other woman saw the almost painful awareness that was growing between the two agents as each sat and tried to ignore the other. To her disquiet, Janice thought she saw a certain disapproval in her manner. She also, however, saw an undeniable affection for them both. Vivian would not, Janice guessed, openly support the relationship, but neither would she undermine it._

_Samantha, looking beautiful and confident, sat and studiously avoided looking Jack's way. When she did, however, Janice caught glimpses of longing that she recognised, having seen the same in Jack's eyes more than once when he spoke of Samantha. The sense of awareness they had for one another was almost visible, stretching like a taut rope of silk across the table between them.  
_

_What Janice couldn't understand was the surreptitious glances directed towards herself from the team. Surely, she thought, they had gotten to know her well enough during her frequent visits to see Jack to feel comfortable with her? The sense of expectation she felt from them also confused her. Danny, especially, had shot some knowing glances her way. She wondered if perhaps Jack had said something about her new relationship with Terry. Perhaps they wondered why he was not here tonight with her? She shrugged, thinking she would have to ask Jack later. Pushing aside her thoughts, she leaned towards Jack. Touching his arm to gain his attention, she smiled and joined in the conversation flowing around the table..._

-XXX-

Dinner and speeches were over, and the music begun. Jack and Janice's table had quickly emptied as each couple left to dance. Samantha, guided expertly around the floor in Martin's arms, caught occasional glimpses of Jack and Janice. Jealousy and regret surged through her. They looked, she decided, perfect together, their dark good looks and elegant clothing making them perfectly at home in these rich surroundings. Her heart sank when Jack looked down at Janice and smiled affectionately. Leaning towards her, he said something into her ear, causing Janice to pull her head back and, looking into his eyes, laugh merrily.

The shared laugh made anger grow within her. That Janice could betray the kind of trust that Jack obviously had in her...

Not being able to stand it any longer, Samantha used the discomfort of new shoes as an excuse to be led back to their table. She and Martin sat for a while, making small talk and trying not to feel uncomfortable with each other. They'd agreed it was over; agreed that it was for the best, that she wasn't ready to commit, and that he was looking for something that she couldn't give. They had also agreed to go to the dance together. Now, Samantha wondered if that had been wise. Perhaps she should have offered to let Martin bring someone he wanted to be with...

Martin, on the other hand, knew that the man Samantha wanted to be with was here already.

After a few moment's silence, he said hesitantly, "Samantha, maybe you ought to talk to Jack." They'd never spoken outright about her relationship with their boss, but somehow he knew he had to say something, and this would likely be the only opportunity he'd ever have.

She looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "He looks at you the same way you look at him. I don't know why you don't do something about it. It's stupid not to, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, looking down at her hands and refusing to meet his eyes.

"Yes, you do," he insisted. "And just because we didn't make it, doesn't mean I don't want to see you happy. You'd be happy with him, and you know it."

Knowing better than to deny it, she looked towards the dance floor and said firmly, "He's with Janice now."

"We don't know that." He hesitated. "Well, not exactly, anyways," he qualified.

"I think we know enough," she retorted. Looking at Martin, her eyes softened. "Thank you, though. You're a good guy, you know that? You deserve a lot better than you got from me. And I will always like you, it was just that-" She stopped, not knowing what more to say.

"I know," he said in a quiet tone. "It just didn't work out."

It was the closest they ever came to apologising and explaining, and it satisfied them both.

She nodded. Then, inhaling deeply, she gathered herself together and said in an upbeat tone, "And now, perhaps, would be a good time for _you_ to go visit those lovely ladies who came to visit you earlier. You did promise a dance or two, I believe!"

Martin's innate good manners did not want her left alone at the table. Realising that, Samantha rose. "I'm heading to the ladies' room. Why don't you go over and say hello to your friends? By the time I get back, I'm sure there'll be someone here."

He frowned, not liking the idea, but also wanting to reaquaint himself with the two women.

Understanding his reluctance, she said, "Don't spoil your evening on account of me." She stopped, not liking the sound of that. "You know what I mean." She tried again: "I know this is uncomfortable for you, since we're not a couple anymore, but remember that the others never knew we were, so they won't expect us to hang on one another all evening. So go see your friends. I'll be fine."

"I'll keep an eye out for you when you get back," he promised.

Samantha smiled. "Deal."

He rose and she paused. Before setting off, she reached out a hand and touched his sleeve. "Thank s again, Martin."

He nodded, understanding all of what her thanks were for, and hearing the unspoken, 'I'm sorry'.

"It's okay," he said, truly believing it was. It had been a bit of a struggle all along, and he had seen the end coming - he'd just wanted to ignore it as long as possible. Now that it was over and done with, he found himself surprisingly okay with it. "Everything always works out the way it's supposed to."

Samantha nodded and walked away, wishing sadly that 'supposed to' and 'wanted to' were one and the same.

-XXX-

When Samantha returned from the ladies' room, Janice was sitting at the table. Jack stood beside her. When Samantha drew close enough, Jack said, "I was just going to the bar. Would you like something?"

Nodding, Samantha gave him an order and sat down beside Janice.

Jack left and the two women sat in silence, ignoring each other by watching the dancers.

Finally, Janice atempted to make small talk.

Forced to speak to a woman she could barely stand the sight of, Samantha reluctantly began to respond. She had already decided not to confront Janice, thinking it pointless. Jack, she'd decided, had to know what she knew first.

In response to Samantha's polite enquiry as to how she was enjoying her stay in New York, Janice said, "I think I may settle here, though I don't know if I'm ready for New York winters."

"Perhaps New York isn't ready for you," Samantha said darkly.

Janice looked at her in surprise, not understanding the animosity she heard in the younger woman's tone.

When Janice did not respond to her comment, Samantha asked pointedly, "Will your husband be joining you? It'll be a bit crowded at Jack's place, won't it?"

Janice regarded her with dark eyes, trying to decipher the dislike radiating from the other woman. Sudden realisation of what lay behind the comment made her pause._ Samantha was jealous because she thought living with Jack meant that they were-_ She leaned back in her chair, shocked. For the first time in ages, she found herself totally thrown off balance. She sat, her mind quickly working the permutations of the new revelation. _If Samantha thought Jack and she were intimate, it changed everything. _She paused._ Or nothing. Perhaps it made it even better...Samantha would try harder, maybe...  
_

"No," Janice said, finally finding her voice. She looked up to see Jack weaving his way amongst the tables on the way towards them. "My husband and I are divorcing," she continued, turning in time to see that Samantha had followed her gaze and was also now watching Jack's approach. "The time here, away from everything at home, has been just what I've needed to get my thoughts straight. Jack has been wonderful. Sometimes it takes a separation to realise the truths of a relationship," she said, hoping that Samantha was hearing what she was saying.

Samantha was prevented from responding by Jack coming close enough to place the three drinks he carried onto the table. Sliding one in front of Samantha and another in front of Janice, he said, "I hope no one changed their minds while I was gone. The bartenders are good, but the line up is a killer."

The next few moments were filled with small talk as they listened to the band and watched people dance. Then, deciding to seize the opportunity, Janice moved restlessly and said, "Jack, I've got to go speak with Elisabeth Hoover. She told me she's starting a very interesting project directed at inner city schools, and I may want to do an article on it to compare it with the initiatives we've been working on in London. Would you mind if I popped over and spoke with her now?"

Jack smiled. "I'm surprised you managed to sit still this long. Of course I don't mind. Would you like me to come along?"

He didn't realise what Janice truly had in mind until she said, "Oh, that's all right," and suggested, "Perhaps you could ask Samantha to dance while I'm gone."

Samantha sat still. _"Remind me to ask you to dance. I'll show you my skills first hand,"_ he'd said. She'd hoped for just this circumstance. Now, her knees turned to jelly, she wished herself anywhere else.

Recovering quickly, Jack looked at Samantha, his gaze steady. "That might be a good idea," he said. "I think I promised her one a while ago."

Janice smiled. "Then by all means, get to it. I'll see you two later." She paused, then added as an afterthought, "And after that, you should show her the garden on the roof of this place. It's totally amazing. Terry showed it to me last evening. I can't believe what you Americans can do. Such an unexpected place, and there are still late roses in bloom! It's very romantic up there."

Smiling, she turned and walked away, satisfied that she'd done what she could to set the wheels in motion.

Her fingers were crossed that neither of them knew where to find the brakes.

End  
Chapter 27  
_Patience, my little grasshoppers... _


	28. Chapter 28

**Hey! Here it is. The beginning of the end of the second beginning, so to speak... Many thanks for the awesome reviews. To people who have never spoken before - special first-time thanks! **

**This is slow slogging, I'm afraid, and it may be another two weeks before the next chapter gets finished and posted. But thank you for hanging in and being patient - I swear it's almost over. Another two chapters, tops. I'm sure of it.  
**

** As it's been a while, here's a little intro:  
When we last met, Janice suggested Jack ask Samantha to dance, and perhaps take her up to the rooftop garden. She then walked away, leaving them to ponder deep thoughts...  
**

**Happy Monday... **

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 28**

Jack and Samantha sat for a moment, silently considering what Janice had just said.

Jack merely felt surprise at Janice's lack of subtlety.

Samantha, however, felt totally disorientated, not understanding Janice's flippant referral to Terry and the 'romantic' rooftop garden. Nor did she understand Janice's casual palming off of Jack in her direction. Something was wrong here, something critical, but she had little time to work things out before Jack rose and stretched out a hand towards her.

"I guess we'd better do what the lady says," he said dryly.

Samantha looked up at him, then lifted her hand and rested it softly in his. She rose, her heart thudding. Walking gracefully on legs she wasn't sure would support her, she allowed herself to be guided onto the dance floor.

Finding a place to begin, Jack stopped and they turned to face one another.

There was a moment's hesitation.

They had never danced together before. Not like this.

Jack moved first, placing one hand on her waist, and taking one of her hands with his other. She then lightly placed her free hand on his shoulder. A tremor passed through her as something fell into place.

She was in his arms. This was where she was meant to be.

With her following his lead, they danced out onto the floor, moving to music only partly played by the band.

For a while, they remained silent, giving themselves time to become accustomed to the feel of each other and to the movement and rhythm of the dance. Cautiously, Jack finally spoke. "You seem very thoughtful tonight."

She allowed a few bars of music to play before answering. "I guess I am." Holding herself tautly erect, she followed his steps, surprised at how effortlessly she could do so. She felt apart from time and place, as though she could take flight...so long as he held her like this, and there was music...

_Though the music_, she thought, _might not be needed..._

"What's on your mind?" he asked gently. "You haven't been yourself for the last few days."

He wanted to ask more, but knew he could not. There were now boundaries he should not cross, things about her life she would not discuss with him because he was her ex-lover, and she had moved on and into the arms of another.

Surprised he had noticed, Samantha said nothing at first. She could hardly blurt out that she had finally realised that she still loved him and wasn't likely to stop. And now, uncertain about Janice and her earlier comments, her worry that Janice, while having an affair with Jack behind her husband's back, was also having an affair with Terry behind Jack's, seemed...she sighed. Perhaps she had been mistaken.

Samantha glanced up at Jack, then quickly looked away. It was impossible to tell what was going on for sure without asking, and she was too afraid to do that.

Her lips tightened imperceptibly. It was complicated. It had seemed an easy thing to do, earlier. Just tell him what she had seen and let him decide what to do. Now, it was different. She might be mistaken, and even if she weren't, was it merely a selfish part of her that wanted to tell him - a selfish part that felt if he wasn't with her, then he shouldn't be with anyone?

And what if, after she told him, he didn't care? Or didn't believe her? What if he announced his 'whatever' with Janice, and carried on?

Or what if there was nothing between him and Janice, and it had all been in her imagination? What then? Would he think her an idiot? Realise her feelings for him and feel pity?

She didn't think she could stand the embarrassment of that.

Her mind a muddle, she opted for stalling. "I don't want to think about it right now," she said. "Let's just enjoy ourselves, okay? It's been a long time since I've done something like this. The band is wonderful, the room's filled with beautiful, happy people..." She looked wistfully about her. His hand was warm upon her hip, and his cologne brought back forbidden memories...

...Fighting the urge to erase the few inches of empty space between his body and hers, she said, "It feels almost too good to be true, doesn't it?"

Jack held her gaze. He wondered what on earth had possessed Martin to leave her alone to go talk with others - and thanked God that he had. "No," he said, "I don't think so. I think this is perfect - and I'm having no problem at all believing it's true."

Samantha smiled, and, unsure of both the look in his eye and how to respond to it, she fixed her eyes on the dancers surrounding them. Something was happening here, but she was afraid it was a fabrication, built on her wishing it to be there.

Lapsing back into silence, the two continued to move with the music.

-XXX-

One song later, the bandleader announced their first intermission. Reluctantly, Jack and Samantha made their way back to their table. As he guided Samantha amongst the other couples leaving the dance floor, Jack noted a familiar face sitting at one of the tables and paused. Torn between needing to speak to that person and wanting to remain with Samantha, he placed a staying hand on her arm. "Samantha, I see Stephano Rossi. I don't want to be too long, but I do need to speak with him for a couple of minutes. Would you mind?"

Acutely aware of his warm hand lingering on her skin, Samantha took a brief second to remember who Stephano Rossi was, then shook her head. "Of course not," she assured him. Not wanting to leave things so that she would not be with him later, however, she quickly said, "I'm heading for the ladies' room. How about I pick you up on the way back?"

Jack nodded, relieved that she was not affronted by his desertion. He squeezed her arm gently. "Sounds good. I just have a couple questions to ask him," he reassured her. "It won't take long."

Samantha's expression showed her curiosity, but she kept her questions to herself. She knew Jack. If he wanted to speak to Rossi, there was something left over from the Blackwell case that still disturbed him. He'd tell her what that was in his own time. When his hand slowly left her skin, she knew it was time for her to leave. Turning away, she headed towards the doorway leading to the washrooms.

Unconcerned with how it would look to be seen with a suspected member of the Mafia, Jack moved to sit beside Rossi. Glad that the other guests at the table appeared to be busy elsewhere, he asked in a casual tone, "So, how's it been going?"

Rossi turned and looked at him, his eyebrows raised. "Agent.Malone," he answered. "Hello." He looked at Jack's attire, then commented dryly, "Unless the FBI has raised their dress code considerably, I assume you're here as a guest this evening, and not come to question me."

Unsurprised by the man's calm acceptance of his presence, Jack said, "That's right." With wave of his hand, he said, "I hope you don't mind; I saw you here and wasn't sure if you'd heard the latest news about Georgina's case. I thought you might be interested."

Knowing Jack's approach held more than the offer of information he had no right to be giving away, Rossi paused, then said, "Word on the street says you continued investigating even after the case was turned over to the NYPD."

Jack nodded, not terribly surprised that the other man knew. A man in Rossi's position would be privy to much information that many would wish he weren't. "That's right," he said, "and we found the man we believe murdered Georgina two days ago. I wasn't sure if you'd have heard that yet, or not."

Jack watched as Rossi's face stiffened.

"You found him? No. No, I hadn't." He stopped, obviously gathering his thoughts, then said, "Thank you. It's good to know the sonofabitch has been caught." He looked across the room, his eyes focussed on something only he could see. "Who is he?" When Jack didn't respond, he said in an undertone, "It would have been better if I'd found him first. Compared to what he deserves, his treatment by the justice system will be far too good." He turned towards Jack and said in a cold tone, "I'd be interested in knowing which prison he's sent to."

Jack's eyes widened as a piece of the puzzle he'd been struggling to put together fell into place. "I'm not at liberty to say who we've taken into custody, but the evidence we have against him will put him away for life."

The other man took a slow sip of his wine and then turned to look at Jack more fully. "That's not even half long enough; not for what he's done." He shrugged. "It won't be difficult for me to find out who and where he is." Setting the matter aside, he sharpened his gaze. "But you have something you want to ask me. I owe you, for what you've done for Georgina, so ask anything you like."

"Anything?"

Rossi's eyes glinted. "_Almost _anything," he amended.

Jack was blunt. "Why did you go to visit Jason Blackwell after his wife's disappearance? Were you having an affair with Georgina?"

Rossi looked at Jack with dark eyes. Waiting to think before answering, he finally admitted, "Yes, I was. And I visited Jason because I needed to be sure that he had had nothing to do with her disappearance." He tilted his head to one side. "No one ever suspected anything between Georgina and I. Only Victoria, whom Georgina told everything to, and Blackwell - because of my visit to him - ever knew. You are very perceptive."

Jack shrugged. "It's my job."

Rossi sat back in his chair and regarded him with dark eyes. "Yes, I suppose it is. And you _are_ good at what you do. But something tells me you have something else on your mind."

Jack smiled and inclined his head.. "I do."

Rossi made a gesture indicating Jack should continue.

"Did you have anything to do with Georgina's father's death?"

Rossi stiffened, and lost his easy-going manner. Eyes narrowed, he said, "Perhaps I should have restricted this conversation to only one question. You're stepping dangerously close to the wrong side of 'almost anything', Agent Malone."

Jack could tell he wasn't totally opposed to continuing with the line of questioning, however, when Rossi added, "I don't understand why you would ask that. What does it have to do with anything?"

"We are products of our pasts, Mr. Rossi. It has everything to do with everything; your involvement with the underground, your providing jobs for women who desperately need them, your aiding Georgina in whatever way she asked of you..."

"So you are holding my good deeds against me."

"I'm not holding _anything_ against you," Jack promised in a low voice. "Nor do I intend to. I just want to know. Call it curiosity."

Even with Jack's tacit promise to keep whatever was revealed to him secret, Rossi remained silent.

After a moment, Jack decided upon a different approach. Leaning his elbows on the table, he examined his hands. "Suppose," he said, in a conversational tone, "there was a young couple... madly in love...meant to be together. But the girl had a really abusive father - a father that the girl actually suspected had gotten away with the murder of her own mother. And suppose the father became increasingly abusive towards that girl. Suppose the boy, not liking what he saw happening, confronted the father. I don't now how it actually all came about, but perhaps when the boy spoke to the father, the father flew into a rage. In self-defence, the boy picked up the closest weapon he could find and swung it. The blow killed the father.

Because he was honest in his own way, the boy confessed to his girlfriend what had happened. He wasn't so honest as to tell the police, however. The police - perhaps thanks to the boy's connections - never found the murderer. The strain of the secret, however, put pressure on the young love and the girl began to distance herself. Finally, they broke it off."

Trading theoretical supposition for what he believed to be truth, Jack looked at Rossi. "You never forgot her, though. Years later, you met up with Georgina again. She was distant at first, but there was still something there. You felt it immediately. So did she. When she needed a favour, you were the one she went to, and you were happy to grant it because it meant seeing her. You began working together occasionally, meeting one another at social events, then you both began making excuses to see one another, and then, somehow, at some point, the affair began."

Rossi regarded Jack steadily. "You appear to have given this 'story' of yours a lot of thought," he said, "but I think if I were to write it myself, I would add that the girl broke it off because she didn't understand that it was an accident, didn't understand that he hadn't meant to do anything but stop the man from hurting her. She couldn't understand that he couldn't say he regretted what he'd done, because it meant that she was now safe. All she could see was that she had fallen in love with someone capable of doing things that frightened her, someone who was not what everyone thought. She got this crazy idea that, because of his family environment, he'd killed her father because it was easy to. People already didn't approve of him because of his 'family' ties; this just seemed to seal the fate of a doomed relationship."

"But you ended up together anyways," Jack pointed out.

Some of his defences back in place, Rossi leaned back in his chair again. Toying with the stem of his wine glass, he regarded Jack steadily. "Of course. And we would have made our relationship public and formal had not fate stepped in. She discovered, you see, that she loved me, no matter what."

Jack looked at him.

Rossi smiled. "Everyone knows 'business is business', Malone. What we forget is that love is love. Whatever her concerns about me and my rumoured career, it didn't alter the fact that we loved each other. It is a mistake to think that the former could have ever prevented the latter." He raised both of his hands expressively. "It may be difficult for you to understand, but emotion can overcome a large number of hurdles." Smiling, he added carefully, "Even something as large as my totally unfounded reputation. Perhaps she shouldn't have loved me, but she did. Always. And I, in spite of my better judgement, loved her. That love made other things seem very unimportant." He looked away, his features tight with emotion. "It still does."

The two men sat in silence a moment, lost in their own thoughts. Then Rossi looked up. Jack thought he was about to add to what he had just said, but the other man's expression changed and his focus turned to something to their left.

"There is someone coming our way," he said. "The young woman you were with in Victoria's office, I think." He looked at her closely. "She's very lovely," he observed.

Jack turned his head and watched Samantha walk towards them. A smile lit up her face when their eyes met.

"Yes," Jack said, focussed only on the glowing young woman approaching their table.

Something about Jack's tone when he said that one syllable made Rossi look at him closely. Glancing between the two, his eyes lit with a knowing flame.

"Perhaps you understand the nature of our problem better than I thought,' he said.

Jack didn't respond.

Stephano Rossi smiled. He didn't need a response, not really.

End  
Chapter 28


	29. Chapter 29

Hey! It's almost over. I can't believe it. Thanks to everyone who's read this and been kind enough to let me know your thoughts about it. Today, especially, I'd like to say hello and thanks to reviewers who've never said anything before but who have been moved - for one reason or another - to say something now. I'm glad you're out there reading, and glad you're enjoying my efforts! Dropping in to say hi or to give pointers, lessons, or comments is the nicest gift you could give me!

As always, I thank Diane for her eagle eye and Justine for her good sense.

Once again, it will likely be a couple of weeks before the final chapter is up. I've yet to start it, though thoughts are running through my head. Cross your fingers. Wish me luck.

And thanks to everyone for your patience...and please...have a happy Monday...

**Too Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 29**

When Jack and Samantha returned to their table, Vivian, Marcus, Danny, and his date, Katie, were already there. Martin, Vivian told them, was still missing in action. "I think he's up to something," she grinned. "Brunette, mid-twenties, and dressed in black. He waved at us, but didn't stop on his way by!" Looking directly at Jack, she added, "Janice was here for a few minutes, but someone came over to speak with her and she left with them. She said she'd be back in a bit." She looked at him carefully to gauge his reaction, then observed carefully: "She's a busy lady this evening. We're not getting to see much of her."

Totally oblivious of the focus of her concern, Jack's lips curved upwards. "And if I know her, the evening will continue that way! She's right in her element tonight. I wouldn't worry about her; she's having a great time," he assured her.

It hadn't been Janice she'd been worrying about, but Vivian nodded and exchanged a glance with Danny. It didn't look as though the expected announcement was going to happen; in fact, she was beginning to think that all the speculation had been totally wrong. Wondering what had happened, she gestured towards the table. Drinks sat in front of both Samantha's and Jack's empty chairs.

"Sit," she ordered. "Drink up before the ice melts."

"You two are pretty predictable when it comes to what you drink, so I thought I'd get you something while I was at the bar," Danny explained. Though he was smiling, his dark eyes studied Jack carefully. His boss was not looking like a jilted lover. Still, he and Janice were definitely not behaving the way he had expected them to.

Feeling scrutinized, but not understanding why, Jack nodded his thanks as he pulled out Samantha's chair for her. Once she was seated, he opted not to return to his original place, which would have been two empty seats away from her. Instead, he sat down so that only one chair separated them. Reaching over, he slid his drink across the table towards himself, then raised it. "To a perfect evening," he said, saluting each person there.

The others followed suit and toasted the evening. Conversation resumed, and laughter soon flowed around the table.

When the band resumed their position on the stage, everyone remained seated for the first song, but the music soon lured them, couple by couple, onto the dance floor. Left alone with her once again, Jack looked at Samantha. Remembering Martin's smiling remark about 'friends of the family', he felt confused by Vivian's comment about Martin and the brunette. Wasn't she aware that Martin and Samantha were seeing each other? He also wondered what Martin thought he was doing, leaving Samantha on her own the way he had. He looked at the people milling about on the dance floor, then back at Samantha, and made a decision. No point in not stealing a moment with her while he could. With a wave of his hand, he indicated the dance floor.

"I guess it's just you and me left. Shall we?" he asked.

Samantha nodded, and rose. This time, as he guided her out to the crowded dance floor, the warmth of his hand pressed against the small of her back. This time, when they faced one another and began to dance, he slid his arm further around her waist and brought her closer to him. And this time, Samantha curved her arm around his shoulder and allowed her body to relax, ever-so-slightly, against his.

They made small talk at first, commenting on how nice it was to meet Vivian's husband again, and then moving comfortably to speculating about Danny and his date. Jack was certain Danny had found someone special. They both agreed it was wonderful, and Jack elicited a promise from Samantha not to tease Danny unmercifully on Monday.

Then they lapsed into silence, every nerve of their bodies taut with awareness.

Finally, part way through a second song, Samantha gathered her courage and commented softly, "It nice to see you and Janice so happy."

Jack looked down at her, a slight frown on his face. "Happy? I guess so. It's been good having her here."

She nodded, and quickly said, "And she seems perfect for you. It's good you have what you've found with her." She paused, struggling to find the words to tell him what she had seen.

Jack slowed his feet and looked at her in confusion. "Found with her?" he repeated. Realisation dawned on him. "Samantha, Janice and I-" he hesitated, trying to wrap his thoughts around what she seemed to think about his relationship with Janice. "Samantha, Janice and I- we're not- " He paused, then tried again. "We're not in that sort of relationship. She's my friend. Her marriage was a mess, and now it's over, but she and I - it's not like that." His lips curved slightly. "She's sleeping in the girls' room. I'm hoping she and Terry will make a go of it."

He resumed their former momentum and attempted a smile. "But if we're talking about happy, I guess I should say I'm happy for you and Martin. It's taking me a while to adjust to the idea," he said dryly, "but I'm getting there." Proud he'd been able to spit out the sentiment, he quickly moved away from the painful topic and said, "Janice and Terry have been getting closer for a while, now. They're-" he paused, not knowing what the middle-aged term for such an arrangement was. "They're an item,' he finished lamely.

Samantha's heart had stilled when she'd begun to understand what he was telling her. Her steps faltered slightly. "An item?" she echoed.

"Yeah. I think they've always had an attraction for one another, it just took them until now to realise it." He looked down at her and felt concern when he saw her expression. "Are you all right?"

Samantha nodded as all her suppositions crashed to the ground around her. Hope surged for a heartbeat, then she glanced away.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise." She felt foolish. "I thought when you said that Janice had moved in with you that-" She stopped abruptly, then said, "Well, we all did, actually. And you've seemed happier lately, and she's always dropping by.. We just figured that..." Her voice drifted off.

"God. Why didn't anyone ask?" he questioned. Skillfully stepping to the right to avoid collision with another couple, he stopped talking and let his mind review all they had just said. Forcing a smile, he commented, "Janice will certainly get a kick out of this."

Quickly taking his lead, she smiled back. "I'm sure she will. You do realise that the others-"

"Have me making an announcement and walking down the aisle sometime soon," he finished for her.

She nodded.

"It'd be interesting to hear how they reached that conclusion," he said. He looked at her, his eyes unreadable. "Life isn't that easy. At least not mine. My timing has never been very good." In a voice laced with sadness, he added softly, "I never seem to realise what I should do until after I've gone ahead and done the wrong thing."

The look in his eyes as he spoke was so intense Samantha had to look away. Hoping against hope that what he had said meant what she thought it did, she decided to take a chance. After taking a deep breath, she said, "One thing you can stop doing is trying to adjust to the thought of Martin and me. We called it off a while ago."

This time it was Jack who stumbled. Recovering quickly, he spluttered, "What?"

Samantha smiled and finally looked at him. "I guess that comes as a surprise?" she asked with a slight smile. She could feel her confidence return as hope began to build within her. Having everything in the open, she thought, might turn out to be a very good thing.

Jack stared at her. Vivian's comment and Martin's absenteeism were suddenly thrown into context. "When did it happen?" he asked. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. Are you okay?"

She shrugged. "We tried, but it just didn't work. It never would have, I don't think."

"He's a good man," Jack said.

"Yeah, he is," she agreed.

Jack looked at her. He felt hope, strong and demanding, rise in his chest. After a moment's silence, he asked gruffly, "But not the right one?"

Holding his gaze, she shook her head very slowly. "No," she said softly. "Not the right one."

The music altered, faltering to a slower, more intimate tune they were both familiar with. As the lights lowered, he tore his eyes away from hers and drew her closer to him, almost sighing as he felt her body relax and welcome the contact.

Tentatively, she rested her head on his shoulder, savouring the closeness, and loving the way her body responded to the feel of him against her.

His right arm slowly tightened its hold on her as he brought her right hand to rest on his chest.

She closed her eyes.

While they danced, silence and the movement of their bodies said everything that needed to be said. This was it. This was the moment in which everything they thought they'd known got turned upsidedown and the universe finally righted itself and changed life into what it should be.

The waiting and pretense were over.

Her mind spinning a mantra of _ohmygod,ohmygod,ohmygod_, she held on to him, inhaling his scent and savouring the feel of his arms wrapped around her. He wasn't Janice's; she wasn't Martin's. And now there was no doubt as to where she belonged. Hope swelled in her breast, making her breathless as a physical longing for him began to build.

When the music again picked up its tempo, Jack looked around. Disguising his disappointment in having to release her even a little, he suggested, "Perhaps we should take a look at that garden Janice mentioned. It'll be easier to talk there." He almost winced at how obvious he sounded. Talking wasn't what he wanted to do, but short of having a hotel room magically appear, it was the best he could do. He needed to be alone with her, needed to kiss her, and hold her close - and confirm that what he was sure had just happened really had just happened.

She smiled and nodded, not minding at all. Instead, she took his fingers lightly in hers and led him off the floor towards the large double doors that opened on to the hotel's main foyer and a bank of elevators that would take them to the roof.

Not far away, Katie Mason inclined her head towards the departing couple. "Danny? I think Jack and Samantha are leaving. I wonder if everything's all right." She'd seen Jack and Samantha only moments ago and had almost remarked to Danny about how closely they danced. She knew the floor had been crowded, but still...there had been something very intimate in the way they had moved; something strong enough to have made her pause and look twice. She'd re-thought her impulse to comment, though, deciding it might not be her place to say something. Now, however, they appeared to be going with no goodbye. That, she thought, merited her saying something.

Danny turned, just in time to see Jack and Samantha round the corner and disappear. He frowned. Things hadn't quite gone the way he'd expected them to in regards to the announcement from Jack and Janice, and Martin disappearing so shortly after their meal had been a surprise, as well. With both Martin and Janice missing in action, it was a lucky thing that Samantha and Jack were so content with each other's company...

He paused as an improbable thought crossed his mind. He turned the idea around, mentally prodding it for signs of life, then pushed it aside. Life, he knew, was strange, but probably not that strange. Bringing Katie closer against him, he said, "Jack's on call. Perhaps something's happened and he has to go answer a page. We should probably go looking for them in a minute, just to make sure everything's okay."

-XXX-

Jack opened the door and ushered Samantha out onto the rooftop garden Janice had so enjoyed. He'd been here before, on a case. It had been summer then, and the flowers and trees had been alive and thriving, in striking contrast to the missing woman's body discovered on one of the flagstone paths. Now, with autumn's arrival, there were not so many blooms, and the bare branches of small trees reached skyward with brittle, crooked fingers. Still, in the pale illumination from the path lights, he could see that there were roses and late asters growing here and there.

Samantha walked out and looked around with pleasure. She lifted her arms and swung around to face him. "I can't believe this place isn't crowded with people. It's lovely up here." She inhaled deeply, surprised at how fresh the air smelled. The night air was cool as it brushed against her bare shoulders, but for now, it did not bother her.

Jack had eyes only for her. "Not many people know it's here, unless they're a guest and have read the brochure in their room. It's not the time of year people think of rooftop gardens, either," he said in a practical tone.

She looked up, wishing she could see stars, but gladdened by the sight of a large, harvest moon rising above the buildings to the east. Large, wispy clouds drifted across its face, but did little to hide its light.

"It's wonderful."

Still watching her, Jack nodded.

Smiling at his sudden quiet, Samantha reached out and took his hand, drawing him away from the roof entrance and along a path she expected led to the edge of the rooftop. She stopped when she reached her destination and turned towards him, expectation and moonlight glittering in her eyes. Placing a hand on his chest, she smiled up at him. A breeze lifted an errant lock of her hair and she caught it in her hand and put it back in place. She shivered slightly.

"It's cool up here," Jack commented. Not wanting their departure hastened because she was cold, he quickly shrugged his tuxedo jacket off and placed it around her shoulders.

She smiled her thanks and hugged his warmth to her. Stepping closer, she again looked up at him, her lips parted.

It was all the invitation Jack required. "Samantha," he said. Drawing her to him, he bent his head and gently touched his lips to hers, savouring her mouth as he teased her lips and carefully reacquainted himself with their warmth and softness.

Samantha leaned into him, her hands grasping his shirt as though afraid they might be separated. Parting her lips, she hungrily invited him to deepen their kiss.

Jack needed no more encouragement. With a soft groan, he slid his tongue against hers, revelling at his body's response to her. Feeling her arms slide around his neck and her body press itself against his, he wrapped his arms around her tightly, one hand tangling its fingers in her hair, the other clutching her body close against his...

It was a few moments later that Katie and Danny turned the corner and saw them. Katie stopped and quickly stepped backwards. Raising a hand to her lips, she cautioned Danny to remain quiet. There was a moment of silent debate, then, as quietly as they had arrived, they turned and left.

Unknowing, Samantha and Jack clung together for a long time, heedless of anything but their recaptured passion. Finally, breathing heavily, they rested their foreheads together.

"Wow..." Samantha murmured breathlessly, her body in shock at the surge of sexual need their kisses had elicted..

"Yeah," Jack said gruffly, the smile in his voice making Samantha's lips curve in response.

She inhaled deeply and pressed her forehead against his neck.

They stood together, rocking gently. Feeling as though she could never have enough of this, Samantha lifted her face towards his. Smiling, she touched her kiss-bruised lips softly against his. "One more time..." she murmured.

Jack's mouth captured hers.

-XXX-

"Well, the guy at the desk was right. They definitely went to look at the rooftop garden," Katie said, a touch of humour warming her voice.

Danny and Katie stood in the elevator, facing the doors. Danny, in shock at what they had seen, cleared his throat and leaned forward to punch the mezzanine button. "I can't believe it. What are they thinking?" he asked.

Not catching the tone of Danny's voice, Katie looked at him and smiled. "I don't believe 'thinking' was on the top of their list. They were certainly in agreement of what was, though," she said. Her smile turned to a grin. "You FBI types are pretty passionate people!"

Danny moved uncomfortably. "This is no joking matter, Katie. Jack could lose his job over this, and Samantha..." He shook his head. This wasn't a good thing. He paused, reviewing the scene in his mind. What he'd seen had been... well...Katie was right. It had been damned passionate. He'd only seen them a moment, but Samantha's slender arms had been wound tightly around their boss's neck, and Jack's arms had clutched her tightly to him...He had seen Samantha turn her face heavenward as Jack trailed kisses from her mouth to her shoulder...He'd heard her soft murmur of pleasure-

He stopped his thoughts. He didn't want to go there.

Katie looked at him thoughtfully, her smile gone. "I don't understand. I know there are rules about fraternization, but what harm is there, if no one knows?"

"Lots," Danny replied curtly. "We work in a dangerous field, Katie. I mean, we're not always standing behind a gun, but we've all been shot or shot at. What if something happened and a judgment call had to be made? Jack's involvement with Samantha could totally change his perspective of a situation."

She nodded, understanding his point. "I see what you mean." She paused a moment to think, then commented, "But to some extent, you could say that of any of his decisions about any of you, don't you think? You say he's known Vivian for ages. Are they friends? Would that friendship affect the decisions he makes in a crisis? I mean, I know what you're saying, but would you trust him less?" She paused, then asked, "How long have they been involved?"

Danny looked at her in surprise, then realised that she wouldn't have known that this had to be something new. "I dunno. Not long. They didn't say much, but Samantha and Martin had something going for a while. I didn't clue in until tonight that it was over."

She looked at him in surprise. "Samantha and Martin?" She couldn't believe that Danny hadn't commented on_ that _before.

Danny nodded. "Yeah. It made sense, in a way. He's liked her since the day he started. She never noticed him much, at least not until-"

He stopped as a chill of realisation hit him. He wondered how he could have been so blind.

"I don't know if I want to talk about this right now, Katie," he said. His mind swirled with memories...of the number of cases Jack and Samantha had always worked on together, of the number of times he'd found them already at work when he arrived in the morning, or had left them, still at their desks, at night...and then of Jack's unscripted rescue of her from the bookshop...and he remembered Samantha's look, when Jack had announced his departure to Chicago...and her sudden response to Martin's advances...

"So what are you going to do?" Katie asked.

Disturbed from his thoughts, Danny shrugged, unsure. "Wait and see what happens, I guess."

"Don't say anything," Katie urged. "Let things go. It's their business, and their mistake to make - if it is one."

"You think it's maybe _not_ a mistake?"

This time it was she who shrugged. "There's obviously a connection between them of some sort. I saw_ that_ at dinner. And God knows they were connecting pretty well when we saw them a few minutes ago! We all find love in unexpected places, right?" she said in a practical tone. "I don't know either of them very well, but neither of them strikes me as the sort to go looking for a one night stand - so this must be something that's been building for a while, right? And if there's all the stuff at stake you say there is, I figure there's a good chance that this is serious. If it is, then there's every chance they'll figure out a way to make it work. I think that would be kind of nice."

Danny looked at Katie and felt a tide of warmth for her rise in his chest. She made it sound so simple.

And maybe it was.

"I love you," he said, his voice holding a warmth reserved only for her.

Katie smiled. "And so you should. We're living examples of finding love where it shouldn't have been, don't you think? Perhaps letting them do what they need to do is the best thing youcan do for either of them."

He nodded, glad for her insight. Life, he was learning, was more than the job. He wrapped his arm around her and said a small prayer of thanks. Jack and Samantha were both good people. They'd always had a special rapport; why shouldn't it turn into something more? If they could find the kind of happiness with one another that he had found with Katie...how could he wish them anything but all the best?

He sighed, wondering how difficult a secret it would be for any of them to keep.

-XXX-

"We should be getting back," Jack said softly. "People will be wondering where we are."

Samantha nodded, but kept her head firmly pressed against his neck. "Yeah."

Inhaling deeply, Jack moved. Smiling, he said, "No, really.We've got to go back to the others."

She looked up at him, her eyes glowing. "I know. But God, Jack..."

"We'll work something out."

"Good. Because there's no way I'm leaving your side tonight. We're going to finish this."

He smiled. "Damned right." He kissed her lightly. "But I don't think I'm ready to announce anything just yet."

Returning his smile, she nodded. "Good to see we're in agreement, there." She paused, then asked, "Any ideas?"

"It'll have to be your place."

"Sounds good to me. But how will Janice get home?"

"I'll talk to her and she'll take care of that. How did you get here?" he asked, drawing her close to him again.

She frowned. "With Martin. I'll have to come up with something to tell him..."

"Just say you're tired and want to go home. You can call a cab," he murmured against her neck.

She sighed with pleasure as his lips trailed warm kisses across her skin. "Who'll leave first, you or me?" she asked.

He smiled and lifted his head to look at her. "This conversation is bringing back old memories."

She softly kissed him on the side of his mouth. "Yeah, but we're making new memories now."

He looked at her, love welling up within him and sweeping away any chance of articulateness.

"Yeah," he sighed.

She drew away from him and immediately missed his warmth. On knees she was surprised held her, she stepped backwards. "Time to go, eh?"

He nodded. "Time to go."

End  
Chapter 29


	30. Chapter 30

Thanks to Diane, who, as I've said before, can spot a typo from forty paces and who patiently corrects the way I want to spell murmur, and to Justine, who has the best story sense around. Trish, you're totally marvelous, and anmodo...I can't thank you enough for letting me borrow Katie and Danny. Your trust meant a lot. (Sarataja: great plan. I'll bring the map, you bring the ammunition.)

I also need to say how much I've appreciated the comments and crits on this story. To be honest, I'm kinda of blown away that so many people were thoughtful enough to drop a note about it. Fifteen on the last chapter! I've _never_ had that many reviews on a chapter before. It really is appreciated..Kelly, you're right: reviews are to a fan fiction writer what royalties are to a professional! To everyone who's reading now: thanks for hanging in and finishing this with me.

Oh - and Sarah - thanks for the reminders about it being Monday, and Flips: I love the mental picture of someone reading this on a train on their way to work. It makes me smile...thanks for letting me know!

It feels so strange to be finished. This chapter is rather anti-climatic, but here it is...an ending that's really just another beginning...

** Good To Be True**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 30**

Janice looked up when Jack approached the table. Her violet eyes glanced behind him for a brief second, then quickly moved to meet his.

There was no mistaking the question in them.

Fully intending to ignore that question for a while, Jack smiled and said, "I was wondering if we'd see you before the end of the night." Before she could open her mouth to ask about his own whereabouts, he looked over at the other two people seated at the table. "Everyone else up dancing?" he asked Vivian and Marcus.

Vivian nodded. "Katie and Danny have way too much energy," she chuckled, "and Martin is totally wrapped up in his new find. I don't know where-" She stopped as she caught sight of Samantha weaving her way amongst the tables towards them, and waited until she arrived before continuing. "Welcome back," she said. Her dark eyes observing the younger woman carefully, she added, "I was just about to say I had no idea where you had disappeared to."

Samantha smiled. "This place is huge. I was exploring." To avoid having to say more, she slid into her seat and quickly took a sip of her now tepid drink. Swallowing, she then made a comment aimed to divert attention away from herself. "I'm surprised you and Marcus aren't up dancing," she teased. "Didn't I hear you say you were going to make up for lost time, or something?"

While Samantha and Vivian chatted, Janice glanced between Jack and Samantha and then said, "Jack, I think it's time we danced again."

Her tone told him it would be better not to argue. With a wave of his hand, he indicated the busy dance floor. "I'm at your service," he said, throwing an apologetic glance at the others for leaving again so soon.

Smiling, Janice led him away from the table.

As soon as he took her hand and they began to move around the floor, Janice started: "Where have you been?" she asked in an undertone. "I don't know if you know it, but I'm sure Samantha and Martin aren't seeing one another. He's done nothing but dance with that brunette all night. I really think you need to talk to her, Jack. I saw you dancing with her earlier. When you disappeared and I couldn't see her, either, I hoped you'd gone off somewhere together. Did you? You've got to say something to her. You-" She stopped abruptly and stared at him a moment, then said suspiciously, "You're not saying anything."

Jack shrugged, and in a nonchalant tone said, "I'm just waiting for you to stop talking long enough to ask if you'd mind finding your own way home."

She huffed, then said, "I'm only talking because-" She froze as the meaning of his words dawned on her. Looking up at him, her face brightened joyfully. "Find my own way home? Bloody hell! Really!" Oblivious to the other dancers surrounding them, she extricated her hand from his and threw her arms around his neck, exclaiming, "Thank God! It's about time! I knew this would work!"

Jack hugged her, then gently released himself from her hold. Taking her hand back, he resumed their dance.

"Calm down. I'm only asking if you can find your own way home. You knew what would work?" he asked, though he expected he knew the answer.

"You and Samantha. Being here. Together. I'm so relieved. I knew you just needed a bit of time together. This dance was all I could come up with. Terry-"

"Terry?" Jack interjected, "You talked to Terry about Samantha and me? I thought I'd made it clear Samantha and I are not topics for discussion."

She gave him an unrepentant smile. "I must have forgotten. Or perhaps you only mentioned that to Terry." Shrugging prettily, she said, "He probably forgot, too. You know how busy his mind is. Anyway, we've both been worried about you. You've been totally miserable, and if he thinks you and Samantha are right for each other, who am I not to do my best to help you out?"

Jack grunted. Keeping in perfect step with the music, he said, "Who, indeed. And far be it from either of you to mind your own business and leave things alone. God. You and Terry are perfect for one another."

The barb flew past her unobserved Grinning knowingly, she said, "It's amazing what holding a woman in your arms can do, isn't it?"

In spite of his best efforts, Jack's lips quirked upwards. "Absolutely," he agreed amicably.

"So you can't possibly be angry, can you?"

He turned them around in an effortless set of intricate steps. "No," he admitted, "I don't suppose I could be."

Janice chuckled as she easily followed his lead. "Good! In that case, you won't be upset when I tell you I'm leaving shortly. Terry phoned and said he managed to get a seat on the last plane into LaGuardia tonight. He finished his speech - he says it was brilliant - and decided to finish the weekend here, instead of staying and listening to other people talk about things he already knows." She paused for breath, then continued, "I told him I'd borrow your car and pick him up, if that's all right." She looked at him, her eyes smiling. "And you can go with Samantha and do what needs to get done," she said, her prim tone belying the suggestive twinkle in her eye.

Jack took a millisecond to wonder if his car and the city could survive her bouts of indecision about which side of the road to drive on, then nodded his consent. He took exception, however, to her easy asssumption that he and Samantha would be hopping immediately into bed like two sex-starved weasels. "You can borrow the car, but get your mind out of the gutter, Janice. We've danced and talked. That doesn't mean everything's settled between us. You act as though we're about to hop into bed at any moment.You're taking an awful lot for granted, aren't you?" he asked.

Tilting her head to one side, she looked up and regarded him with solemn eyes. After a careful examination of him, her eyes crinkled at the corners and she laughed. "I don't think so. I know you, remember? You're as happy as a bloody clam; that can mean only one thing."

She was right. Damn her. "You take all the fun out of things, you know that?"

She grinned. "Somehow I don't think I've put even a dent in the fun you're going to have."

He looked at her and tried to pretend shock. "You're embarrassing me."

Laughing, she tapped him on the shoulder. "You are so American! Now dance me off this floor, and let's get our evenings started. I don't want to be late for Terry's plane, and I definitely have to change out of this outfit before I go. And," she said, "the sooner we leave, the more time you'll have to do with Samantha whatever it is that you won't admit to planning to do!"

Biting back a retort he knew would only encourage her more, he expertly guided her to the edge of the floor just as the song came to a close.

"Thank you for the dance, my love," she said. "Those lessons really paid off, don't you think?"

Smiling at the anticipation he could tell was running through her veins, he said, "Stop gloating about the dance lessons. I admitted they were a good thing a long time ago; they were just hell at the time." He took her arm and they made their way towards their table. Before they reached it, however, he stopped and said, "Let's just say we're leaving early because you need an early start tomorrow morning. Samantha, I believe, is about to plead a headache."

Janice shook her head and grinned. "This is worse than high school. Don't you feel silly?" she asked.

"We do what we have to do," he shrugged. "It's better that the others don't know, Janice. Not yet, anyways. There are things Samantha and I have to work out. We have to know for sure that this is what we want."

Janice frowned slightly. "You won't have to worry about my giving your secret away, but you've got to stop with the doubt," she said, her voice holding a tinge of impatience. "You've done enough of that. This is what you want, and you'd be crazy not to go for it. Everything will fall into place; you just have to want it to. It's time you realised that not every good thing in your life is too good to be true."

He put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her briefly. Janice might not be the best person around to take romantic advice from, but there was no doubt but what it was heartfelt and well-intended. "I hope you're right," he said.

"I am. Now let's get moving. Terry will have your head if you make me late."

-XXX-

Farewells were quick and to the point. Danny and Katie had returned to the table while Jack and Janice had been up dancing, so everyone but Martin was present to hear that Jack and Janice were leaving.

"Samantha just called a taxi," Danny told them. "She's not feeling well."

Janice made an exclamation of dismay. Turning to Samantha, she said, "We could have dropped you off, if we'd known. Why don't you let us take you?"

Samantha made the expected noises about it being out of their way and the taxi had already been called, and thank you anyways.

Danny looked between Jack and Samantha and felt nothing but confusion. If he hadn't seen what he'd seen, he'd have thought Samantha was leaving because of Martin's behaviour. At least, he thought, knowing that Samantha had had _other_ diversions meant he hadn't embarrassed himself by taking Martin aside and giving him a lecture in good manners. He eyed Jack and Janice carefully. Both appeared incredibly pleased with themselves and stood together in an apparently united front. He looked at Samantha. She just looked tense. Perhaps she did have a headache, but where did that leave what he'd seen on the roof and the fact that Jack and Janice were leaving together? He sighed. Nothing was adding up.

He glanced at Katie who was eyeing the trio carefully. He had no idea what _she_ was thinking, either. Perhaps she could explain things later.

-XXX-

After a taxi ride that felt like it had lasted for forever, Samantha's door closed softly behind them. Turning to face Jack in the warm familiarity of her front hallway, she felt suddenly at a loss.

Wordlessly, Jack helped her off with her wrap. Opening the hall closet door, he hung it on a hanger for her. When he turned, she lifted a hand and took his tuxedo jacket when he shrugged out of it. Carefully hanging the expensively tailored garment beside her wrap, she slipped off her shoes and then closed the door.

And felt his fingertips run feather-light across her bare shoulder.

She circled around and was immediately engulfed in his embrace.

It was warm and wonderful and she felt weak with happiness.

She inhaled deeply, loving the scent of him. "God, Jack," she said, her words muffled by his shoulder.

He clung to her wordlessly for a moment, then asked in a low voice, "Is this happening too fast? I don't feel as though my brain has had time to catch up with our actions. This isn't how I expected the evening to end."

"End? It's just beginning," she smiled, moving her body against his.

Resisting the urge to begin undressing her right there, he said, "You know what I mean. I haven't had time to catch my breath since the first dance we shared."

"Neither have I. It feels good."

He tightened his grip on her briefly, then moved to place his hands on her bare arms. Sliding his palms up and down them, he looked at her and agreed, "Very good. And I'm almost convinced that this is really happening...But maybe we should talk about what we're getting ourselves into."

Her hands clutching his shirt at his waist, she looked up into his eyes. "I think we already know," she said softly.

Jack shook his head. "I'm worried that we don't. Last time-"

Samantha made a quick movement with her hand and gently pressed a slender forefinger to his lips. "Shhh," she cautioned. Drawing away from him, she took his hand and led him into the living room. When she reached the sofa, she turned and sat down. Still holding his hand, she drew him down beside her and twisted to face him.

"Jack, I don't want to talk about what happened between us before, or about why we've spent the last few years the way we have. I _will _talk about what's happening now, and why it's happening, though." She looked down at their joined hands and paused to gather her thoughts. Tightening her grip on his fingers, she finally continued, "For me, it's happening because I never stopped feeling the way I felt about you. It didn't matter who I was with or what I was doing, _you_ were always in the back of my mind; _you_ were the constant that I couldn't rid myself of." Raising her eyes to meet his, she said, "The fact of the matter is, I didn't _want _anyone else." She shrugged. "Maybe in time, I could get over you, but the past few years haven't taken me very far in that direction, and to be honest, I don't think I really wanted them to. I love you. And I love loving you. And now you're here, and that tells me something about what you're feeling, so to hell with everything else. We can work it out."

Jack raised a hand to touch her cheek softly. "So I've been miserable all this time for nothing. You hadn't moved on with Martin."

"No. But when Janice arrived on the scene, I was quite sure you had moved on with her. I tried to be happy with Martin, and I tried to be happy for you, but it hurt. A lot. To find out that you-" she stopped as the remembered pain of his being happy with someone else made tears fill her eyes.

"Stop," he said, drawing her to him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, glad beyond reason that Martin had been just a momentary aberration. "God, I love you" he murmured. "I don't think I'm going to be able to ever let you go, now."

She drew back enough to smile and then kissed him softly. Against the warmth of his lips, she whispered, "That's exactly the way it should be."

-XXX-

Samantha's beaded dress lay carefully placed across the seat of her bedroom chair, ready to be properly hung in the morning. Jack's shirt and pants were neatly folded and hung on the back of the same chair.

Underclothes were strewn randomly on the floor, wherever each piece had fallen.

Sated and deeply content, Jack and Samantha lay together on her bed, wrapped loosely in sheets, her duvet, and each other.

"You're awake?"

Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Mmmhmmm," he rumbled, too content to reply with words. He'd been awake for several minutes, savouring the moment and the pleasure of having Samantha lying next to him.

She moved her head against his shoulder, loving the feel of his skin against her cheek. When his arm came up around her and his hand cupped her shoulder, she smiled.

He felt the movement of her cheek. "You're smiling," he said, his eyes still closed.

"Yeah. I'm happy."

"Good. Me, too."

She rose up on an elbow. Tracing the outline of his face with gentle fingers, she looked down at him with wonder. "I don't know where we went wrong last time, but this time we're going to get it right. I'm not letting you go ever again."

He smiled. Looking at her through half-opened lids, he said, "I thought you didn't want to talk about last time."

"I don't. Not exactly, anyways. Maybe the timing was just wrong. It certainly didn't help that you were married. That was dishonest of both of us. But what we felt wasn't, and now we're both free. I want you, Jack Malone. With all my heart and soul, I want you."

Love filling his chest so full he found it hard to breathe. Reaching up, he pulled her to him. "You are the wisest, most foolish woman I have ever met, and I love you."

She smiled into his neck. "Really."

"Really, absolutely, and without a doubt."

He rolled the two of them over so that she lay on her back looking up at him, her soft hair strewn across the pillows. Rising up on one elbow, he said gently, "I spent every moment since our breakup regretting everything except the fact that our affair happened. No matter how hellish my life got when I was trying to reconcile with Maria, what we had together stood out as something so special I just couldn't say it had been a bad thing. I knew thinking that way was wrong, and that it wasn't helping anything, but it was just the way it was. I couldn't get over you; didn't want to get over you. Being with you had been too good to just toss aside and pretend to forget." He paused, and cupped her face with his hand. "And now, Samantha Spade, I want you to know that I love you. I have for a long, long time," he said solemnly. "You are right; we'll make this work, come hell or high water. I don't want to have to live life without you."

She lifted slender arms and wrapped them around his neck, drawing him down so that their lips could meet again. She moaned as they shifted slightly and his hand began to caress her.

"This is so good," she murmured, her breath warm against his skin.

"And nothing is going to stop it from staying that way," he said. Pulling back, he looked into her eyes. "We'll make this work," he promised.

It was all the reassurance she needed. "I believe you," she whispered, pulling him down to her again.

Slowly, his kisses playing musical notes across her skin, they began to dance once again...

End Chapter 30  
Too Good To Be True


End file.
